The kind of clear winter day
When air seems unrealistic.
Only nothingness could be so transparent.

Weary from the outside in
from sagging limb to lagging soul
every fiber and nuance of my being seeks
a green pasture
a quiet water
a moment to be refreshed.

Tonight the clouds are made of molten lava
rippling toward the horizon
trying to defy the chill of dusk
which inevitably overtakes them
cooling their passion to a steely blue-grey.

The sky looks like a painting
done in oils
hanging just above the hills
made of real life.

I find you again
and you are lovely,
more striking than I recall.
I was a fool to let you slip away.
Your tender charm brings vivid color to a world gone gray.
I feel reborn.

Hello green, rolling spaces of my self-discovery.
You draw out of me sweet memories
of childhood and innocence,
youth and growth.
For your new yet familiar welcome-
thank you.

of hush and stillness
this day knows much