The Bus

I awoke on a bus, my sleeping bag rapped around me. The sky was a black background interrupted only by an uneven line of even darker black. The line came cascading down in all directions creating a landscape of shadow. The bus swayed as it turned a little to quickly around the edges of the silloutted hills. Dawn was coming, the sun would soon peak above the hills. My tired mind ached to stay awake to watch the sun slowly paint the blackness green and blue. I fought off sleep for long enough to press play and heard a few cords of guitar...
My eyes opened, it had been long enough that shapes had begun to form in the blackness. the solitary black line became detailed with trees and farms. Again my eyes slip shut...
Sleep escaped me again and i could see that the supple curve of orange light that had begun to bring morning to the uneven section of earth. The curve of orange grew and grew, emminating warmth and promising life itself. The birds began to fly into the sky, and those who breath began to awake. people watered their plants and fed their animals. A new day had come to us all, and it would in fact be a great one. I could see the jungles below the sky and as my mind began to dream i thought to myself, it is not how i see the world, but how i view it.