Upon a hill

I stood upon a hill
looked down across fields
over roads to houses
where windows stood silent
behind which stories waited
to be heard and told
I watched as clouds passed
the rain fell and sun shined
birds flew between clouds
which rolled high overhead
still, still those stories echoed
in countless possibilities
all acts upon the worlds stage
for all can be beautiful
in the look of a loving eye
I thought of those lives
living, existing, growing
beyond each window
a child laughing
a blossoming romance
a tale of sorrow
and I, I stood upon a hill
watching the world

by Matthew Holloway
Madame Monet and her Son.