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travel poem, travel blog

Your Hand in Mine

 

And she strolled off…

And then it was just me and the mountains.

They said don’t be afraid, child.

You’re already flowing through my mind.

Your hand is in mine.

You carry me and I’ll carry you, be a stone… Like me.

Let go of the humanly emotions.

I’ll teach you to flow like my waters, mixing into the sea and then again being found on top of me.

I found you, now you find me.

 

Also Read: The Man, His Machine, and The Mountains.

 

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