Sunday, 17 November 2013

A stand on the mountain

As the wind blows
And the sun shines upon my hair

I stand on the peak of the mountain
Everything appears so different here

A glitter of bliss
Sparkles deep within my heart

Where does this happiness come from?

Does it come from the contentment of the mountains?
Or the mother trees 
Bowed, curved, and fallen
To protect their children

Why I seem so happy here?
My tears depart me faster 
Perhaps they just evaporate in the air
Then I am able to gaze off beyond the borders of fear

While I am still standing on the peak
Wore in my white dress
Under the waves of the blue sky
I listen as the mountains whisper in the wind

They whisper of  wintriness
They have sensed in the cold season

They whisper of lonesomeness
In cohesiveness, they have beaten

They whisper of hatred 
They have turned from darkness to heaven 

And I speak of love, hope, and faith
The mountains and I share in common

Ashna Shareff