If you can’t tell already, I have written a Latin saying as my title for this post. Veni, vidi, amavi translates into We came. We saw. We loved.

I know  that its quite odd to write a Latin proverb for a title that is representing a poem, but I have recently written a poem based on the elements of my trip to Yosemite recently. I thought that Veni, vedi, amavi truly represented my experiences. For we really did come, we saw, and we loved.

The glow of the scattered stars at night, the moon illuminating the river’s shine. The sweet hush in the gentle good night, the slow, alluring dying of the light.

I love a long winding, waiting road, taking me to a place that I cannot foresee, until the hills reveal a landscaped mystery.

The morning rise of the sun breaks the shadow of night. The coming and going of a saturated sunrise. The clouds praise the sun, the sun praises the sky. The sky praises the tree’s who praise the souls who pass by.

The rolling hills beam as we pass. The water waves and breaks our trance. The bears lurk in the obscurity of the forest, the mountains set fire to the rain of their shadows before we take notice.  

There is another sun and sky, unrecognizable in the land of metal and gilt. The sky is bare except for its bloodless puffs of clouds, the sun a ball of gold and light.

The wind whispers to the waiting tree’s, a simple yet stirring type of a gesture. The mass conjuring a body of wind and frond.

I have stepped in a word of yellow and gold, the water a swirling sea of silver and green.

The steadfast feel of sand in my toes, the bewitching glow of the maneuvering shore.

The wind blowing constantly, the sweet taste of the ocean hanging in the air. The water, it calls me, telling me to defy the space between me and them.

• Kanmani Harivenkatesh