The sun sets upon the sacred valley.

And the clouds light up with color

As the cool rolls in off fields of green.

The smell of earth. The sound of bees.

The mountains looking down 

In loving, purple, rocky grey.

And I alone with the silence,

No outlet, but to write 

Here on this page,

No pallet, No colors, No music.

Just the words, the gratitude, that rolls 

Through my brain and down my slippery fingers 

Onto the emptiness of the barren page.