Truant
i dream of the mountains
songs etched deep in my mind
as if tracks laid from a past I can't account
yet the strains I hear are live and loudi long for that airy smell of elevation
the thinner air and pricks of pine
the brooks that run on hurried tour
so madly blind to the flowers ashorereminds me of a youthful song
but really nothing I haven't sung before
yet more than once I come back here
to replay the memories, slay my fearsand an immortality I can replay
for I can see those who saw this before
did they feel this tender touch of skin
did they tread the trails where I have been?and if they have as I do today
did their stories play out like mine will say
the pull so strong I can't be still
this cosmic embrace of those smoky blue hillsi'll be gone but the mountains live on
i surely was here, my dust will attest
my thoughts and warmth beckoning others on
my love encrusted in these hills and beyond...
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— reena | sometime in the past decade or more…
From my debut poetry collection: Arrivals & Departures: Journeys in Poems
And re-sharing an old post from a year ago that I happened upon, which I think you may enjoy if you missed it last year…
Wonderful rhythm to this.
Thank you for sending me this beautiful poem. I really like it, just like the previous one. It simultaneously evokes the memory of a fervent passion and the harsh and immemorial aspect of a mountainous landscape.