My Mountain

I cannot see my mountain
from where I live, but
I can feel it. Its gravity pulls me,
its winds call, and I answer.
The road to my mountain is long,
but with no one ahead,
no one behind. I swear
I can fly.
The top of my mountain is high,
but there, at the top,
my feet on the ground,
my head in the clouds,
I belong.
The trees on my mountain are weathered
from the winds and fires of the past,
but they are the strongest trees
I've ever seen.
They watch over me.
The nights on my mountain are quiet,
but I can hear the darkness whisper
to me, "Welcome home"
and I know I'm not alone.