High in the hills wends the road to your home steeped and flowered by lupine towers after long slumber, the waking hour - warmth of summer comes our feet grassed and green, we wish on dandelion dreams watch tiny parachutes glide into the sea this place is wild resplendent music we have become more than ourselves and slowed have stopped to feel our breath grow making a path cut from last year we are slipped and sloped toward shore silhouetted just before the end of sun when the world sinks silent but for the deeply toned hum of whale song.