Love is a hill in the morning light.

You climb up one side and the grass is full and green.

But the other side is a pale grey and blue.

This side rests in the face of unfairness.

It can’t bask in the sunlight.

It is a dark place.

It surrenders its sunlight so that the other side may flourish.

Love is a hill in the morning light.

 

As the day goes on, the hill is painted with more golden light.

Eventually each side of the hill is green and full- the hill in its full glory.

Yet the light moves on,

And the full green turns into grey and blue once more.

But this time, on the other side of the hill.

The hill cannot change this disparity.

One side cannot help but to give up its light to its other half.

This shared patch of earth

This singularity of faith in each day running into the next.

Love is a hill in the morning light.

 

There will be green and gold, and there will be blue and grey.

Every day the hillsides will forget their troubles

They will share and thrive and give.

The hillside will be beautiful because it is giving,

Not because it is painted gold.

Because they are one hill,

and cannot help but graciously give light to the other side,

As it is in life.

Love is a hill in the morning light.