This Mountain

This mountain,
a pastel of colours,
blues, greys, and whites
electrify the sky,
a hue of muted tones
that stain the clouds
and appear born
out of this mountain.

it displaces me,
it is day and night,
dusk and dawn,
all at once,
I am asleep – I am awake,
I am distant – I am present,
within this mountain.

it embraces me,
it surrounds and consumes me,
but reassures –
it encompasses all that I am,
this mountain.

It has been too long,
I am guilty
of amnesia,
of turning my back
from where I came,
how quick memories
flood back,
as I walk on this mountain.

The blue overtones,
the pastel paints,
the white clouds
that make up this mountain,
consume me,
my fears blend into the scene,
crippling once powerful emotions,
into sidelined after-thoughts.

This mountain,
forgives me,
accepts me,
it is compassion,
it is my rock.
I am here,
I have become,
and I am home,
on top of this mountain.


A life planned,
or so we thought,
on course and on track.

It’s what dreams are made of,
an oasis where the outside world,
passes by like the clouds overhead.

But reach one milestone,
you begin the next –
youth is slippery like that.

We can’t hold onto what we have,
for what we want,
we do not know.

One circumstance,
one decision,
life turns inside out.

New plans drafted,
a blank canvas,
and new roads

you never knew were there.