On my descent down into the valley,
through the fields of wheat and barley,
the sun is punishing and glistens this shore,
the sound waves crash on the rocks with a mighty roar.
I stopped and looked up at the clear blue sky,
August sure was hotter than the month of July,
I walked on carried my shirt in my hand,
and continued my stroll along this land.
I met a stranger who looked at me and smiled,
he saw a free man living without exile,
I nodded politely and gave him a grin,
as today was the day that the Lord made me begin.
D.A. Woods
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/blessed-24/
