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Standing on a Hill Contemplating God

Marchell Dyon

I rose high above my world of concrete lost in urban slumber
I rose to where no city street could find me
I rose to see golden after-burn, burning away the night

All the unseen birds I hear them singing into a choir of light
Their song lures the sun out from subterranean places
To sit again upon its throne in the ever brighter blue sky
The sun returns to its majesty to cover me with a crown of gold

God is somewhere strolling among the giant evergreens
Somewhere below a burning bush speaks in crackled whispers
I am determined to stand here listening on a hill of fire

I have escaped the brick houses that encircle each other like teepees
Smokestack clouds are calligraphy against the blue white dawn
The sky awaits, those with feathers are spreading their wings
On an exclusive air dance of summer birds on their way south

I stand here minutes before the frost
The dwarf snowy cliffs too are giants
As I make my way back down
I trample through the chilled green carpeted plains

Facing the wind home
I return to the ordinary

If only once I know Ive walked
The path of angels
On the road to falling stars.

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