The air, crisp, clean, melted over his body
caressing each fold of his face.
Thinking . . . contemplating.
He knew that time was not abundant, yet he stayed.
Listening to the twittering birds. He thought.
Reminiscing . . . cherishing.
The solitude enveloped him and he knew that all would emerge.
He laid his head back on the mossy pillow
Searching . . . submitting
Staring through the stained glass window
formed by the thick overlay
and Elijah's Forest served as his place of rest.