Climb the mountain pass, morning warming into hot July day, so few remain, navigate treacherous terrain around unknown corners and deposit at the foot of a lake. I hike through forests that look like those of my childhood, find the flower that gave me my name, listen for bears but hear only my own breaths, I am the only person for miles.
The fears grab me, too often they sit me down, take the muscles from out of my legs, the voice from my throat, keep me locked in the confines of a beloved home. But some days I put them in the backseat with me, say you can come but you cannot say anything, some days I drag myself across the coals of their eager hands and dare to look at what's beyond their horizon.
I came home tired, happy, trekked out to the creek and sat staring at the moving waters. Count down minutes till farewell. But I am free, and when you are free,
no goodbyes really hurt
quite so much.
No comments:
Post a Comment