Monsoons wash the sky.

 Makes it clean, begs the question of wonder…

 Why?

The rainbow is shy, never reveals itself

Unless the air is pure.  But why?

Scientists have answers for most inquiries.

They have theories for all curious thoughts.

Scientists are caught in the rain.

Pruning fingers, cold breath, shivering in their confusion.

I lay upon the hill.

Watch the storm rage and twirl and whip and spit.

Watch it pass.

I wait for the transparent perception of beauty.

What lies I’ve been told! What betrayal I’ve felt!

What… do I know? This world leaves me scarred.

What can I trust? A question derived from the heart.

As of this moment, I stand alone.

False prophets speak of truth, I know of it.

I hurt from words spoken.

I know not what is true in life, but I know beauty.

I’ve seen wonders and they stir my heart.

Turning my mood; darkness departs.

The world is pretty, this is what I know.

Earth has never lied, this I must trust.

My life is held up by joys of wonder.

I am happy. I am lost.

To find myself, I lay upon a hill.