something profound
to step out amongst them,
the creatures that never leave these forests
and hills
i am a visitor
i am a pilgrim
i am a poor wayfaring stranger
yet something of me belongs
something of me never leaves
something of me is more wild than i know
somewhere within me
the memories of lives and lives
that came before me
long before
and yet, somehow of me
these mountains remember them
and i am reminded as i climb
i hear their footfalls
around my tent in windy night
