never before had i seen the sun kiss the hills
with such grace and compassion as to melt the
sky into the creeks that carved their way down to me.
i watched a small bird leap off the tree to my right,
he swayed and dove into the beyond and over the hills.
i watched him drown in the sea of yellow and pink.
i envied him, for he drowned with the sweet taste of nectar.
i didn't know the sun could talk with such enthusiasm,
but he spoke a thousand great words as he painted me a picture.
my heart was his canvas and he painted with humility.
i was so moved that i could dance for days,
to the drum of a horse's unwavering trot,
praising God for the sun, for my eyes, for my feet.
instead, i sat on the cliff where half the hill appeared to be missing.
that half, i suppose, left to chase the sun.
these hills are as wild as the horses, both roam free,
but i am a slave to the shadows of concrete,
except here i am open, i am vulnerable,
waiting for something to come, to strike me,
for scars are lessons permanently learned,
and i am a scholar of the great sky country.
teach me, i have everything to learn.