I lay in this field,
Looking towards the sky,
My eyes are gazing with amazement,
And my mind fills with thoughts,
Thoughts of who all laid here before me,
And if I'm seeing what they saw,
Could Thomas or Keats have been inspired like this,
Could Orwell or Huxley had their vision this way,
Did the Greeks and Romans look up and see their Gods,
Was the sky like this when Native Americans roamed free,
I can't imagine all the changes it has seen,
The stories that it can tell,
And all the lives it's past,
But one thing I am sure of,
Is that the beauty it's shown me,
Won't be forgotten.
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