Hills roll like the sea beneath the sky—sweep, sweet tides of my passion flowing.  Sing to me, you remember my name, even when I am lost. And I am often lost.

My heart called out into that night, amidst the rain and the silence of the fields.  This was my first hike, and it was thrilling to be off on my own, with nothing but my thoughts to accompany me.  I listened to them as the hills rose and fell beneath my feet.

There lives in me something inconceivable and indescribable.  Like a soaring flame, reaching out to every face that passes by, every star that hides in the clouds, and every melody dancing upon the wind.  It pulls at each one with a love both passionate and unrequited.  It was when I realized that the world would only disappoint me that I decided to close for remodeling. 

But after years of effort, I realized that didn’t work.  The colors clashed, the floor rotted through, the wallpaper tore and the paint chipped away.  I’m afraid I don’t have a natural sense for interior design.  Lucky for me, there’s always a different approach. The storms of summer stripped it all away, down to the very foundation. Tonight, I will live my dream to dance in the rain. Here, where the hills stretch before me, the wind calls, and my freedom is found.

I used to think there was so much I could not grasp or understand.  People confused me; I wondered what dwelt in their heads and why it was renting so much wasted space.  How could they not feel the same longing that took hold of me?  How could they not run to the seaside with arms outstretched?  Or leap to the star-ridden sky as though to embrace it?  How could they draw near the mist-enthroned woods at sunrise, and turn away without a sigh?

The raindrops splattered upon my forehead as I turned my head to the sky.  I watched it stretch endlessly before me and thought that perhaps this flame was meant to be only mine.  Maybe it is me.  And maybe it is in each one of us. Unapproachable, inconceivable, and ours alone.