I'm drinking lemonade on a hilltop. I shout at the top of the hill, and I do get a response, but not the kind you would expect. At least, not the kind of answer

most people would expect.

To hell with ignorance.

I can't even attempt to explain it.

The reponse begins without words yet ends in rhyme.

The rhyme is of course, recognition of what was said before, but it is silent.

And it's there, when the sky is orange, over grassy plains.

It is as if the sun itself is a beacon of transcendental energy emitting rays of the light of truth, and reflecting the truth of us all.

What is the ultimate truth?

We may never know, but our calls will be answered, if we attempt to listen to our inner selves, and nature.