Thoughts on a hill

If I close my eyes and stare into the black abyss of sweet rain clouds on their lids, I can see a story. The light is dim and the wind is musky. From my vantage point I can see the whole periphery of land, my land. To the west a crimson light bathes the flat arid fields. By a simple tilt of my head, the East is cast in dancing shadows. The Celestial stars above my head are admitted into the night, millions billions of light clusters, gathering to watch the lavish nocturnal spectacle. The short dry blades of grass at my feet hush a tune that I have never heard before, complemented by the sheep herd and the shepherd boyscry. Inside my mind, these thoughts keep me awake: 'We are screaming inside, though we can't be heard'. So instead of hoping that, onto my high pedestal,you'll join me out of sheer hope I shout your name. Once, and an echo, twice, and an echo, thrice, and an echo... So I leave, tears on my chin and my lips glistening from my happy cries. That night is the night when after years of laborious patience, I hold you in my arms.