Six A.M.
The sweat was already making its way down your nose and forehead.
Your feet:
exhausted.
Your ankles:
beat.
Your shoulders:
torn.
Your strength:
winding down.
But,
your spirit:
ever
lasting.
You had begun the hike early.
You despised sleep.
Only nature energized you
and tested you
simulaneously.
The hills had been no challenge for your experienced body.
You could handle the stress.
You knew your muscles would thank you one day,
much like how your children would
once they were finished taking this hike
with you.
Today,
was their day
to appreicate the beauties of the planet.
To observe
its fragilities,
its magnitudes,
its graces,
and its destructions
and reconstructions
was to watch
your own life
flash
before your eyes:
there
was sorrow,
there
was pain,
and somehow
or rather,
you
had let yourself
go on hikes
each day
at six A.M
and see how there was a lot of the same:
a pure orange sunrise,
a sea of green trees,
kind, old rocks
and time interwoven between everything,
sparking infinity.
About the Creator
Mihaela Vasileva
I write based on heart. I love based on thought. I think based on truth.
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