there were weeks there
where all i wanted was to be in my childhood home
amongst my books and pictures and comfortable nostalgia,
but the winds are changing.
my world is changing while i am still.
the mountains are calling for me,
"why haven't you returned?" they query.
who couldn't despise the cold any more than I,
yet now all i long for is the shivering embrace of the north.
somehow my heart becomes solid,
frozen and invincible, like the river that rushes beneath me
as i take my place along the train tracks
and feel the earth singing to me.
the time has come to run away from home.
my ears miss that howling whistle,
my skin yearns for that long gust of far-traveled air.
that rush of vibration, that ache for forward motion.
i need to be back at that spot on the tracks
to slow my pulse and make me feel alive,
shake open my lungs, shake open my heart.
i see myself as that winding train
sprinting along the river, waving goodbye to that deep city below,
running away from each frozen station
never looking back, but always coming home.
i want to come home to my mountains.