And I stood amidst the vast hills and against the never ending backdrop of more hills. I looked up into the sacred, seemingly endless sea of blue, "This is the sky" I was told a lifetime ago. Eons ago, when I was a child, I remember people looking up and praying to god as though he lived in that unflinching, moody sky, and today, years later I stand below that promise of hope, looking up through glistening eyes; angry eyes; searching for hope - this thought of a god, this mere fiction of imagination?
And i shouted at the sky. Raging, questioning this injustice, demanding a return of faith, seeking healing from the very entity that abandoned me. The anguish in my voice deafening, enticing the silence around me. And then moments of consummate stillness -tears falling rapidly down my face, hair tangled wildly across my face, unattended, unaware of anything but pain. On my knees now, crumpled against the unyielding, hard, stolid earth, face bent over dishevelled heart and mind, weighed down by cares - relentless, faced by the sempiternal truth that this was desperation, and finally awakening to the cold magnanimous wind sweeping around me. Cold eyes stare back at the sky, warmth returning to them as the blue, now dark-grey, heavens pounded the earth incessantly, heavily thunderously with tears of hope - soaking my body, drowning, forgetting, peace, safe...
