This place the world has made for me

Running through the wild grass
all you see is sky
time is held in a bottle of glass
and passes through your fingers as it goes by

your tangled hair is free
green leafs poke through your toes
you run and climb with glee
wrinkling the dusty freckles on your noes

sun beats down upon your back
there are splinters in your feet
no innocent sweetness you seem to lack
and you smile at every creature you meet

you fill your chest with a deep breath of valley air
taking in a sweet smell made by a honey bee
no ocean or mountain could ever compare,
you think, with the place this world has made for me