Poems Feeling Free

FEELING FREE
Copyright, Mary Rachels

Living in the mountains
Is like living on cloud nine
You can almost touch the stars
You can almost fly
The mountain air is thin
And it opens all the senses
Mountain beauty fills the head
With magic and illusion

I grew up in the mountains
And lived the mountain life
A life of open love and warmth
To melt the winter ice
I had no knowledge of the cold
Even when it tumbled
Thru the cracks or roof
In the silent form of snow

Cold was just a part of it
As much a part as freedom
And freedom wasn’t just a word
Free is what we were

Freedom was reality
And wearing hip-high boots
Plowing thru the snow with Dad
To look for evening’s meal
Scaring rabbits out for dinner
From their brush-piled homes

Freedom used to climb the slab pile
And watch dad feeding tree on tree
To the hungry sawmill
To get us thru the winter

Freedom ate the skimmings
Off the sorghum slowly cooking
Freedom walked with Momma
Picking berries by the pond
And out along the fence
That kept the cow and Old Ned in

But the very best of freedom
Were times when I could ride
The length of that green pasture
Holding on to Old Ned’s mane
A free and casual spirit
Without saddle, without fear
The breath of God was there
As we slowly rode the wind

Momma and dear Papa
Have gone to their reward
And Old Ned to whatever
Is reserved for faithful horses
And when I go again
Up to the mountain’s heart
I see Momma, I see Papa
I see rabbits where they hide
I see Freedom and Old Ned
Riding a wind That now carries him
gently

This entry was posted on 3. March 2008 at 02:45 and is filed under Poems. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response or trackback from your own site.