Puff Into The Breeze Poem by Thabani Khumalo

I learned something beautiful from a tiny little boy,
he said whenever we stood as men to hold talk on boyish dreams
and there appeared beautiful girls to pass us by at a little Sunnyside corner,
nothing of speech ever meant any matter;
whether concerning the Angels of the sky or the Ghosts of the grave,
we should be silent and appreciate the moment until a clear distance,
and only then do we continue with our impossible hallucination dreams.

I learned that I was born to enjoy the best of the best life;
I was born to stretch my arms to the horizons with an open heart;
I was born to draw to the diaphragm, the fresher wind of the higher altitude;
I was born to stand on the hill top roof and blow a puff -
of twice the feeling of ten times the higher happiness - into the breeze:
I was born only to be cheerful.