Beyond the Hill

Shielded from the sun, the rains, and the elements of nature by huge maple trees

I sit on the bench each day.

Squirrels scamper among the branches

while birds and butterflies flutter through outstretched limbs.

Near my feet a stream flows.

Off to my left, a small bridge crosses the stream

that leads to the cemetery in front of me.

Off to my right is a hill.

I sit on the bench each day and look towards that hill.

I wonder what lies on the other side; what is beyond the hill?

It isn’t so much that particular hill

or any earthly hill but in reality, my spiritual hill.

I watch the sun on the horizon. Is it a sunrise or sunset?

Parts of my life are sunsets

while other parts are sunrises

and right now I’m unclear as to where I am.

It is the same as I look to the hill and wonder what is beyond it.

My life wonders what is the future,

what does the next year,

even the next day hold for me.

I sit on the bench and wonder

hoping some day I’ll know the answer.

When it is time I will walk up over the hill

it is then I will know what lies beyond.

When it is time I will know if the sun on the horizon is a sunset or sunrise.

Until then, I am content to sit on the bench,

near the stream

with the little bridge in front of the cemetery,

wondering what lies beyond the hill on my right.

It is where I am suppose to be at this time.

by Susan Handle Terbay