I Choose The Mountains... Poem by Owoeye Taiwo Bisola

The valleys cry out my name as I strife to scrabble,
I'm in-between the hills and the mountains.
I need to rise above the wavering wind and surface,
The mighty mountains are moving;
I need to budge like the zephyr and climb their zeniths,
I choose to race on the puissant fields,
I choose to fly above the moving mountains.

The lowlands bewitches me with their greens,
I'm in-between rocky routes and heightened highlands;
The lowlands call out to me charmingly,
I choose to climb my mountains with the sun in my eyes,
The hills are hurling high praises at me;
I choose to cut my fingers and bleed upon the ridges of the hills;
I choose to sweat puddles of rivers on the harrowing plains.

© DECHOSEN1🌹