On The Top Of The Hill Poem by Portia Burton

After a daylong arduous trek,
We had erected a makeshift tent,
Others went to sleep but I was awake,
Although tired and equally spent.

Quietly I went out in the open
To stand under the canopy of sky,
And then my eyes began to moisten
As the sight around filled them with joy.

There I stood on the top of the hill,
A river was flowing in the valley below,
Except for it everything was still,
Basking in an ethereal bluish glow.

All the forms looked vague and dim,
Like a wet water-color painting,
It seemed like a surreal dream,
Breathtakingly beautiful and enchanting!

I looked around with a thankful heart
At the Nature's silent celebration,
And felt grateful for being a part
Of this wonderful divine creation!