Some folks, they tell me, dream of a heaven
where the streets are paved with gold.
I walked in the park today, my pathway
strewn with wildflowers, the scent of lilacs
perfuming the warm spring air, thinking
to myself that this was all the heaven
I could want. This, right here, beneath
my feet and breathing all around me.
Tonight, the highway, now a luminous ribbon,
winds into the distant misty hills, the wet pavement
reflecting the light of the setting golden sun.