The sun is setting
blissfully
and subtly touching the branches on this hill.
A flood of color is emerging from
heaven and enveloping the world in
heat.
All I am
on this hill
is a part of the grass.
Broken by the wind,
and taken by the rush of beauty.
All I am
on this hill
is and was, and will be.
And it is alright.
Because mother nature is resting her head.
Enlightening the world in an overpowering aura.
For a second
malice
is nonexistent
evil is
unheard of,
and every piece of good
seems part of this day, so fragrant.
All I am,
on this hill
is a stranger
glancing at the light.