• folded_letters 6w

    A river's poem to the mountain.

    Dear father and mother
    I've arisen from your bosom, born of your own sweat and blood. I was once part of you, before I became me. Long since I've grown, it is time for me to leave.

    I feel safe in your strong arms, which hold me close, but now I must make my move. Your troughs and crests, urge me and test me, while the narrow valleys carry me gently, as I pave my way through the stones and mud, I carry your ancient wisdom in me, and the depths of your roots.

    So I charge forward, towards a journey of my own, and travel through the world, exploring vast skies azure. The foreign lands beckon me, I march to my calling, I must go there and relay, the lessons you've ingrained in my waters. I must face, life's harrows, and grow in my strength and pose. My time has come, and I must leave to find my own song.
    ©folded_letters