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 
the valley?  
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  
just listen, 
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?