Calling © - Poem by Roann Mendriq
The hills are calling, calling me,
home to where the earth grows wild;
Where whispering trees are reborn free,
and dance to the pure joy of a child.
Where the blushing earth arises,
to meet the beaming, glowing sun;
Where fresh, fragrant air suffices,
to spread peace to everyone.
Where ancient paths meander still,
down ways that never have been seen;
Where sunlit glades reflect His will,
in a million shades of living green.
The calling echoes in my heart,
"Too long, too long, we've grown apart"
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