A Distant Hill

David Marchuck Barbour, March 2, 2012.

I saw in the distance
A rare flower blossom.
With petals of gold and blue,
And stem of brilliant green.
The light reflecting
Off the morning dew—
What was it that I’d seen? A mirage?
I couldn’t run there fast enough.
For I knew the sun had power.
To wilt the precious,
Most rare of blooms.
It took me half an hour.
“Where did it go?” I murmured.
My breath was short and labored.
“This was the spot I saw, I swear,
But it’s not, if ere it ever was.”
But I fixed my eyes!
I tarried not, nor turned my head.
I must have been mistaken.
It left me weary, sad.
For the sight of what it was I saw,
And ran to find not here.
It lured me like a field of gold
When I panned a distant hill.
And looking back to where I left,
The flower blossomed there.

The chasing of a dream presents many potential outcomes, most I fear end in disappointment. In writing “A Distant Hill,” I present one outcome I have seen in my life. It is always a risk to venture out based on what appears to be promising, something of wonder…so inspirational and supported by others. But what is it really that I chase? Early in my life I chased something that came to naught, and yet here I am in my later years again on the chase. But what I chase today is where I am and not a distant hill.