There was a road

There was the road. And the sun shining on it. And viscous air caressing hair and skin. And the people that stood on the line of the road - stood single file; looking east, backs to the sun. A sky empty before them, the horizon empty behind.

There was the wind. And the grass that rolled and swam in the fields, the living sea rising and falling to the pulsing air. And the voice of protest in the rustle of waxy stalks; whispering tongues in attentive ears. And the crowd waited; breathless, noiseless. Eyes and wind scouring the road, looking for her lost children.  Looking for life in the beating heart of the land; raging life in the hearts of the crowd standing on the road, trembling life among the grass swaying in the wind, beckoning with the warmth of the soil and the sun. And life flowed through feet, and through roots. Into the soil, down to the earth. Black earth floating road and grass.
There was the sex of animal and plant. And the timeless soil and sky. And the fading light and restless wind. And breath of life and sound; inhalation of want and need, expulsion of regret and apology.    
There was the heat. And the heat pushed life and scent and wind upward; to faces - faces silently drying tears on cheeks and lips. And the crowd wept - wept together. And in solitude. And in unison lifted their arms to the dome of blue arching above. Slowly (slowly) and delicately (delicately) they turned their open hands upward, lifting the sky, overhead. Pressing downward, they let their bodies fall. Backward they went. Drawn to the road, pushed to the ground, succumbing to the pull of the earth (heat, sex, noise, wind, life, matter, creation) alive beneath their feet.