Six inches of rain running through
Four thousand years of stone and mud
Untouched by sinful hands
Painting a picture of the
Original creation

Sinking lines between fallen
Trees and rocks piercing the skin of
Feet; the pain is delayed
Today

Skin against cold, wet earth against
Skin against matted hair and dirt under
Fingernails

Cicadas singing and laughter over flames
Beneath pillars of smoke quietly
Rising; Feeling so small

Glowing eyes watching, from the cover of
Green darkness, five friends
Laughing and drinking, lit only by the gentle
Glimmer of orange and red at the
Very bottom of the valley