Mountain Home

She grew up in the mountains,

amidst the pines,

where she could breathe deeply

the sweet scent of fresh forest air;

Some days she would wander

to the top of the mountain,

and take in all of the beauty;

Below in the valley,

tiny houses would make themselves known

with white sheets whipping in the breeze,

hanging out to dry.

Birdsong filled the air

in nature's melodic chorus.

Wintertime was harsh, and

sometimes the wind and snow

would lash out at her like an angry master

but she always knew

that warmer days were coming.

Daffodils would bloom,

trees would begin to bud,

all of nature would spring to life,

and the valley would turn

lush and green.

She never knew of life

away from the mountain,

but she would dream

of city streets,

flashing lights,

and the smell of danger

in the air.

Sometimes she would

close her eyes

and see herself

walking those streets,

successful and polished

like her grandma's tea set,

But her eyes would open

and bring her back to the mountain.

She would gaze out over the ridges

dappled with summer sunlight,

and wonder why she would ever

want to live anywhere else.

Years passed and she left the mountain,

traveling to other places

with new adventures around every corner.

She walked the city streets

she once dreamed of,

and did things she wasn't proud of.

She opened herself to the world around,

and discovered

that the world isn't always such a nice place.

Now she travels to the mountain

when her soul needs solace.

She stands on the top and looks down,

feeling the cool breeze on her skin.

knowing that this will always be home,

no matter how far away she wanders.

And she knows that no matter how cold

the world can be,

the mountains will always be around

to wrap her in love.