Mountain Boy

Run around

trying to fill

your day-to-day.

That ineffectual,

insignificance

that is your purpose, now.

 

Remember

when you were sanding

in the trees,

on the mountain side,

and you looked

like part of the scene?

 

Though you find yourself

inside these four walls,

you know that you

belong somewhere else.

 

Surrounded by the city,

three hundred and sixty degrees,

but you know

that you

were born free.

 

Hope is a campfire spark.

So hard to put it out.

Still as a moraine lake,

the mind always escapes

back to the mountains,

where you were raised.

That’s where you wish

you could be today.

 

No more exhaust,

and no more noise.

Just the silence,

and the mind rejoice

To feel the stones

beneath your feet.

A mile high,

and miles deep.

 

It might be time

to slip your lead,

and head back to the place

where you find peace.

 

Your life is where

you find home.

Home is your heart

and your heart is stone.

Feet are a river

and your eyes are sky.

It’s about time

to make it right.

 

 

HG – 2020

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