High on the mountain where the eagles soar
I gaze down upon the distant desert floor.
A cool breeze gently flows over my face
With what could be described as a flair of grace.
The pines stand tall against the sky
Connecting to the clouds, floating so high.
Cardinals are plentiful, the sparrows are few.
Even at midday, the ground holds a dew.
Here, I’m one with nature –
So clean and sweet.
While way down below,
the desert shimmers in heat.
The mountains are cool –
And the desert is hot.
Such a contradiction –
Is it? Or not?
I spread my arms,
And close my eyes.
I step to the edge,
And soar through the skies.