Idle On a Mountain in Spain
| I
would sit high on a mountain in
Spain, gazing out over the world, lazily wondering what was to come as my future life unfurled. Tiny figures far below Went about their lives, unaware of the young estranjero* far above, peacefully daydreaming there. Mountain flowers perfumed the air, scenting the gentle breeze, I would settle myself on a rock, lolling, serene, at ease. Why, I wonder, was I content so many miles from home; perfectly happy and at ease sitting there all alone? Worldly problems far away, completely at peace with all, communing happily with wind and sky, untroubled by duty’s call. No special events marked those hours; no romantic idylls held me in thrall. So why do I fondly remember the times I just sat dreaming, doing nothing at all? © 6/8/2007 Thurman P. Woodfork *Stranger, foreigner |
Photo by Heberto J. Martinez