Looking West from the Blue Ridge

I.
I call them my mountains because I was born in their shadow –
hiking in the Blue Ridge feels like going home.
To visit my mountains is to awaken the part of me
that will always belong to the rolling Appalachian foothills.
Give me a cup of coffee in a sleepy Virginia town,
the sound of running water mixed with wind high up in the trees,
and wildflowers dotting the landscape with yellow, purple and orange,
and I will remember the joy that comes from sun-dried sweat on a tan back,
slippery rocks and furry moss on bare feet,
and nothing to do but talk and sing with each other to pass the time.

II.
I left home by following the mountains rise –
climbing in elevation through the Appalachians toward the sea.
To see me in the city is to realize the part of me
that will always long to do good.
But although I have found the beauty in this energetic cityscape,
among the many different sounds and sights and smells mixing into one,
I still sigh in relief when I can hear the cicadas through my window at night,
and miss the people I know are sitting on a porch swing under my mountains,
letting the steady rhythm give the night extra life,
as they are content to simply stare up at the stars instead of pass judgements.

III.
I wonder now if it’s time again to uproot.

IV.
I got a taste for starting over on my first trip out West –
winding through the Rockies that were higher than I could have imagined.
To drive me through those mountain passes is to excite the part of me
that will always equate this terrain with home.
Give me a cold beer in the backseat of a car on a cloudless night,
the smell of a campfire leaving ashes on my face and in my hair,
and even a group of friendly strangers who I have only just met,
and I will feel the peace that comes from the crackle of burning twigs,
wet grass under a flanneled back,
and nothing to worry over because there is nothing but uncounted time.

V.
I got a taste for moving forward on my journey to the Pacific –
flying over the mountains of Los Angeles County felt like finding home again.
To visit those ranges is to awaken the part of me
that will always mark comfort with valleys and hills.
Because although it is just another energetic cityscape,
with new but not unfamiliar sounds and sights and smells mixing into one,
I still sighed in relief when I spotted those giants in the distance,
and wondered at the people I could know sitting in the shadows of those mountains,
letting the natural backdrop give the city extra life,
and I want to know if I would be more content there if I chose a new home now.

-L

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Movers and Shakers

We move to big cities where we know no one,
Leaving behind people who love us because we want something more.

We feel lonely but try hard not to show it,
Diving head first into all of the important work that we do.

We take pride in feeling like we create change,
Knowing that all of our difficult decisions have been worth it.

But we sit in offices observing them,
Marching in the streets of Baltimore and Caracas and Nairobi.

I like to think there are others besides me,
Wondering if we would be happier walking alongside them.

-L