On my way home from a USAF Tech School (Knoxville, TN) in November, 1999, I decided to swing through Nashville to visit my friend, Tashahara. I left her home at around 4-5pm, and knew I had many mountains and hills to drive over, before I got to Toledo. I wasn’t prepared for what I saw, however, when I rounded the corner at the top of the 1st big hill. Across a small valley, on a much higher mountain, the sunlight of the already set sun skimmed over the horizon to illuminate only the tops of the trees at the top of that mountain. If you ever want to try to find it, it’s traveling North on I-65, somewhere between Nashville, TN and Louisville, KY. I had my Walkman, and started describing as best I could what I saw, how I felt…and my wish that I could have stopped to enjoy it. It turned into sort of a story that I don’t know if I will ever finish. I have the end, but I keep pushing it back, with a few added/inserted sentences, every few years.
Sunlight on the Tops of Trees
It’s late November. Driving home from Tennessee. With all the rest, my mind does wander, winding, roaming down the road, this highway blessed. I crest the first of many hills, and my trance is broken. For, through it, sees my eye, atop a mountain in a nearby land, sunlight on the tops of trees.
My soul gives pause, and awes at this greater, nobler mountain’s crown, thus donned at dawn, then bathed in bliss all day, ’til just before sundown. There crowned again, except that now, chapeau royale tipped the other way, it’s dancing jewels dazzling bright, for so sunlight on the tops of trees will play.
I long to stare, yet dare not, for the road demands it’s due. So do I give. Yet, all the more, my soul looks toward the view for that sustaining moment telling, to which my soul did awake. But not sustained for me, for homeward must I go. So will I think myself a young man who did roam this same path on foot long ago, yea, at the brink of twilight, halting when he sees the sunlight on the tops of trees.
Having been, thus, there halted hence, he sees a stump on which to rest his eyes on the magnificence of the scene. And swelled in his breast such an awe that he felt his heart might break forth from his chest, and that his lungs inspire so as to part his sides. His legs, like the great cats spring forth with pow’r upon their prey, so might his mighty young thighs catapult him across the way to where sunlight on the tops of trees signifies the end of day.
“But such is the stuff of so much fantasy.”, he thought. Though strong, he was yet weary from the long day’s longer travels. “To think to traverse this valley below in one lone leap is surely delusion and dream, foolish of mind, folly of mine”. And so, to rest–he would sit…and sift through the sieve of this moment’s relief, the grains of time that had passed through the glass of his life up ’til now. Each granule a step, each breathing of breath one grain less that is left in this life. Both the grandest and grainiest of steps moving ever closer to death, but, first, toward this crest where life and sunlight on the tops of trees shall prove more resilient than even bitter death’s best.
He knows not how to satisfy the land, and yet he breathes. He deeply breathes the air, and swears it is the same as that which came by breeze from where he sees the sunlight on the tops of trees.
©1999, Marvin D. Johnson
Duration : 0:5:0
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