a painting un-paintable.

last night,

we ran out of the woods

bared from winter's cold into the

clearing. faces flushed with the valley's wind

and our beating hearts we stared 

into the fire of the Cumberland sky, 

eyes ablaze with heaven's light.

i wondered if gods were 

pitched in battle behind the blue 

hills as the clouds turned orange and pink, 

reflecting the fury beneath that far

horizon.

pink light graced the cross which 

overlooks the valley, a silent watchmen 

over a valley sleeping in peace. and our 

faces tinted the same pink from blood which 

beat furiously through our veins, 

we watched in awe. 

we turned, left the sky's battle behind,

to run back to open arms and warm rooms,

heated by that same love and passion

that paints the sky.