Origins of Poetry, Painting, and Wonder

The sky broke open and shed itself in beams through the thick clouds as it set. Lights changed, colors got brighter, like we were seeing another side of a multifaceted rainbow. We stood over the grassy hill and breathed it in. A crevice-shelf in a sheer cliff rockface, someplace I could just crawl into and sit awhile; heaven itself; the Carebears' Lair; or possibly inspiration itself. We stood and breathed in the sweet, cool air, and basked about like we were brand new, seeing at last--as if it was the first time.