This is a classic, but we find ourselves caught in the sunshine. They want to set us free, and I can't help but think of you. 2500 years ago, they lived to be 250 years old. At that time, I was only two years old, and I enjoyed playing with the trees and the mountains. The mountains were old and told me they loved bathing in the sun. Now my heart has aged, and my mind is longing. They keep coming, incessantly, seemingly from nowhere. They are bothersome. I strive to eliminate them before they harm you, but my self-control is fading away like a mirage, akin to a reflection on a palm leaf in the window of a passing car. Oh, how I miss those carefree days atop the ambushed hills.