There it stands, arachnid shadows creeping down, its veins flow hidden, causing the grass to breathe.

A distant storm closes in,
it swallows the horizon, accentuating my trivialty .
I rest in solitude.

I make my way up the hill.
I can see the wind through the things that it moves, its power still dormant, demanding my respect.

As i get closer i can sense a force above me,
A blue marble spins and glistens in orange light,
i try desperately not to fall off.

Its almost too much to bare as i stretch out my hands.
In that instant i realise my eyes have been closed.

I hesitate to open them,
The vast atmosphere is now an ambience moaning low.
A deep chant reverberates inside.

I can feel Herculean walls towering to an ornate roof, and statues of gold staring into me, piercing my skin.

Never blinking, never averting their gaze, i have to see.

The hairs on my neck stand up and I ****** my eyes wide.

A cold breeze drifts in from my garden as rain drips off the tin roof.
I get up from my chair wiping my tired eyes.

I look out at the old tree from years past, but i see it for the first time.