The tall prairie grass sways, almost as if it’s dancing, in the breeze.
The same light breathe of air blows over your skin, wrapping you in its embrace.
The bright, shinning sun watches over you in its bed of pure blue.
Its rays beat down on you like a small child’s fists.
The horizon shivers, chilled by the heat.
Trees, scattered about, cast cool amoeba shaped shadows on the ground around them.

Birds flit about, searching out the hidden places in this dry land.
Great stone fingers point upwards haphazardly in between the countless hills,
Calling to you, daring you to climb them and claim the right as “King of the Hill”.
As you look around, the vastness of the world causes you to feel your true size; tiny.
The reservoir gleams and shines
With its water pushing and pulling with the fish just below the surface.

A newbie would never see the details of life etched everywhere.
They’d only see the never ending brown with splotches of dark green,
The huge rocks that seem to randomly jut from the ground.
The heat would seem like a heavy blanket.
The dirt would be a nuisance,
Contaminating the air they breathe
And working its way into every clean thing they have.
Their words to describe this place wouldn’t entwine with each other;
They’d be incapable of creating a magnificent tapestry in your head of the landscape.

But to me, with it complexities and never ending lessons,
it’s like coming home.
I know the rhythm of this age-old place.
I see the glory of the world that no longer rears its mighty head in all places.
I humbly bow with respect at the power we believe we’ve tamed in Mother Earth.
I feel the renewal of my essence as I feel the beat of the ground under my street-weary feet.
I plead for knowledge of how to share this place with those that don’t understand.

The land is alive and thriving; no matter how dead it looks.
Beneath the skin of the Earth, giants once turned and rolled, reaching their hands to the sky.
The heat leaves you grateful for the dark and the dark has you wanting the light; rectifying homeostasis.
The dirt seeps into you, making you part of the land.
In every pore, it returns you to the beginning of time, when everything was beautiful.
When everyone, everywhere, could still see the stars.

The sunset breaks your heart with the beauty of it.
There’s the sky; still bright, with light fading fast.
Colors change, dancing, and dyeing the clouds.
As the sun finally slips behind the shapes of the behemoths underground, igniting them from behind,
The world's roof sets on fire.

Yellow, orange, red flames lick the Earth's ceiling.
Bathed in gold, black as night,
You stand there, feeling the burn of the heat of the fading beauty,
grasping to soak it in.
Then it's gone; cresting the sleeping titans, with its last rays poking out from behind.

The night fills you with a long forgotten, primal longing.
Every particle of your being aches for the sky.
With its twinkling sparks of energy.
The pure air, suddenly cold, seems to wash out your lungs and fill you with peace.
The reservoir water mimics the above;
Little catalysts of light upon the ground.
Stars appearing to gleam on the floor of the Earth.

Earth has become simply the background; being treated like an exotic animal in a zoo,
Nature an abnormality in the clockwork scheme of our lives.
We’ve become accustomed to tall buildings and roads that carve into the land.
Familiar with the lack of movement un-orchestrated by us.
To the never ceasing lights and sounds.

But there is a necessity of that world.
The city is full of diversity and life.
Civilization is what people thrive on.
With its promise of a better tomorrow.
Humans crave the life of others; only oneself will leave gaps in our soul.
But, with all of forever offered at our knees,
Our hearts can’t forget where we came from.

We came from the land.
The Earth molded us into the race we are now.
The Sun and his sister, the Moon, forever keeping guard over us.
The rivers, lakes, oceans, ponds, and creeks forever teaching how precious life is.
Animals, forever our brethren, sharing this world with our large greedy hands.
The constant want to know more and understand, but the respect to know the limits.

When we look back at what we’ve moved on from, the eternity of what it is strikes our hearts.
The infinity of it all, dazzlingly simple.
The splendor of life playing out, untouched.
The sight at night overhead, snatching the breath from those who care to look.
Making even the most civilized, city walker think for a moment
“Maybe this is it, this is what life is,”
moments that strip away everything until only the raw truth stares casually back as it knocks us to our knees in awe.