I never sought to unravel with every fiber
of my being
nor broke free of fetters of iron tied
round the legs by society,
this feeling is foreign,
yet, shafts of light beating against the glass
give me hope–
what lies behind these hills that cup
What awaits on other end of the equation?
I am almost afraid to find out.
The hills begin to whisper as I approach;
duskiest in autumn,
their silhouette reminds me of shadows
we used to play with as children,
flat articulated cut-out figures
which, when held between a source of light
and a translucent screen
bring a whole other universe into existence,
they tell us stories
that strengthen our resolve— how I wish
I could return to simpler days;
how I wish I could return to simpler days.
It’s uncanny how one is always in a hurry
to join the world of adulting.
I pace myself, knowing soft interactions
become violently carved into memory,
it isn’t incumbent upon us
to blossom before it is time
nor is it expected of us to safely side-step
the downward arc of despair,
we are merely human.
I understand perfectly what it means to
the soul is silent but is forever speaking.
What lies behind these hills
that cup the valley… I truly want to keep on going.
Photo credits: Landscape of hill and sea, Pexels.
Posted for Susan’s prompt ‘ The Hill of Hope,” @what’sgoingon?