curve of a golden hill

and rays of sunlight shining through

cascading warmth on roundness

like you could reach out and touch 

the smoothness of the hill

bright shining light

making everything radiant

glow to the earth

and it feels like sound

like deep bass in speakers as the earth moves

and the sun rises

and the trees bend

and the world is blown away

but it’s only air

it’s only wind

that whips through your hair

and an infinite number of strands drift up

into the atmosphere

floating

weightless

until you might reach you hand up to the sky

reaching

ever extending outward

until there is no more

but a dream like semblance 

of the person you used to know

that everyone knows

smooth ride as a hand drifts onto the surface of the earth

then all the rest 

golden

like a chorus 

like a million people clapping

like a note that will never end

like sunlight

and starlight

and moonlight

and lights from distant places

that maybe some have been to