The sun sets upon the sacred valley.
And the clouds light up with color
As the cool rolls in off fields of green.
The smell of earth. The sound of bees.
The mountains looking down
In loving, purple, rocky grey.
And I alone with the silence,
No outlet, but to write
Here on this page,
No pallet, No colors, No music.
Just the words, the gratitude, that rolls
Through my brain and down my slippery fingers
Onto the emptiness of the barren page.
