The Enduring Valley of Light

My first breath was orange blossoms.
My second breath, drops of rain...

My eyes were let to feast on towering mountains and kind rolling hills. Green mountains, purple during dusk light, but shockingly pink after and before. This explains why my hair went gray in that one spot.

All the shocking pink I had to endure.

This is what they fed me...can you imagine?

There were so many introductions: I was bid to leave my shoes inside so I could get to know dirt better. I was made to walk side-by-side with poison leaves, then sit through stories about how bridges were built with rainbows and where the ancient-ones left their beads and why the heart-rocks came to live in the river.

Oh, the river.

Where naked sun taught me to trust as I held boulders with supple arms and a curious young belly. Where cold water showed me to lift my feet and stay focused on maintaining stride. Where mineral springs enchanted me under the canopy of night, while lucid winds haunted whiny sycamore.

That's how they fed me.

That's how I love.

My first breath was orange blossoms.
My second breath, drops of rain...