Great things, and full of wonder in our ears,
Farr differing from this World, thou hast reveal’d
Divine interpreter, by favor sent
Down from the Empyrean to forewarne
Us timely of what might else have bin our loss,
Unknown, which human knowledge could not reach:
For which to the infinitely Good we owe
–from Paradise Lost, Milton.
As if I had somehow slid down the brush of a great painter and fallen onto his canvas, the scenes before me created as I landed. Trapped in continual artistry, colors splashed with reckless allure, sensual clouds would swirl and billow with ease.
The skies would open, and the freshest of rains would cleanse your mind, the earth drinking the sweet drops. Minutes later your skin would pour sweat down your back from radiant rays of sunshine. All one could do was put your feet up and contemplate God, or Milton.
From black water to green water,
sunrise to sunset,
rain or shine,
The Amazon goes on.