The sun sets upon the sacred valley.

And the clouds light up with color

As the cool rolls in off fields of green.

The smell of earth. The sound of bees.

The mountains looking down

In loving, purple, rocky grey.

And I alone with the silence,

No outlet, but to write

Here on this page,

No pallet, No colors, No music.

Just the words, the gratitude, that rolls

Through my brain and down my slippery fingers

Onto the emptiness of the barren page.