The hills roll for miles,
The sun smiles around
These mounds of green earth
As it circles into
The cloudy, dim sky.
Lying among the slopes
Are the hopes and dreams
Of seeds; growing grass
And lasting flowers –
Hours into days.
Winds play songs in the
Leaves of browning trees
As they squeeze between
The leaning branches;
These leaves fall in love.
What were the chances,
That they’d fall on us?
We are surrounded,
Abound by, crowned by,
Found all around in
Love.
