You watch as the young boy stands at the crest of the hill,
arms raised to the heavens, singing, conducting
his private symphony of joy,
no attention paid to the storm clouds
dark against the horizon,
he is content with his moment of sun
and imagination, content
with the memory of songs and spring
that dance with him.
You cannot help your smile, watching his joy,
and your legs, tired from long miles
of hiking up and down ancient mountains
have a sudden urge to dance,
suddenly young again, filled
with the almost forgotten joys of childhood.
The picture was taken along the Appalachian trail, near Troutville, Va. You can click on it for a larger version.