Standing on a Hillside

Sometimes you look back on where you have been
Past the cloud-fluffy daffodils bobbing and green
Through the deep dark forests that hug at your feet
To that speck in the distance, planks that hold in
Warmpth and love.

Sometimes you look up, where the sparser grass
Claws its way heavenwards, and hides in the rocks
Where the trail lazy-curves it's own way past
The gap where the warm sky somehow eludes
The ambitious earth.