Mountain Mama

a poem that beckons you home

I have heard your call
deep in my crackling bones

to return
to the lands of my youth.

These lands lay bare
a truth only

those who hold Her within
can hear.

Only those who wade barefoot
in the frigid water

running clean through my toes.
Only those whose hands carry

the decaying Earth back to Her grave.
Only those who open their tender hearts

to the beckoning of home, belong.
Belong, I do. 

I belong to the river, to the trees,
to the branches waving to the clouds.

I belong to the bird song, the coyote howl,
even to the bear protecting her cubs.

This is my home.
A home that lives within, made of memories

and longings
and regrets.

A home I shall never part,
no matter how far I go.

A home so true, so ancient and omnipresent
that She leaves me no choice

but to surrender to Her call.
I am here.

I'm listening.
What wisdom lives here?

Why have you called me home,
my Mountain Mama? 


This poem is from the book, Maidenhood: Eighteen Years of Life Becoming. 

Photo by Wes Hicks on Unsplash