Miles of Creation

By Andrew R. Duckworth

Level with the clouds,
Looking down at the snaking roads
Winding along the mountainsides.
Like a child looking with glee
Upon miniature model towns,
Reaching their eager hands
To pick up pieces and arrange them
How they will,
With eyes that look upon it
From an elevated place,
A place of safety,
A place of quiet.

The most freeing moment comes
In the realization
That even if I had the power
To craft it in any other way,
I would not.
Power, control, that is for another.
The view is not perfect, nothing is.
But it comes pretty close
While looking over miles of creation,
If you ask a fool like me.