These Mountains Won't Stop Me... Poem by Agatha Eliza

These mountains won't stop me...


The freezing winds won't chisel
the wrinkles out on my cheeks
with a sharp scent of pine.


In this winter of soul, I cannot
stop the sparkling snowflakes
and the sky from falling...


Sometimes, from the shy grips of my
fingers, even my tired companion
turns mute and pale; He quietly leaves me
as my spirit is reduced to ash,
but always returns
in the fertile Springs to collect
the splinters of
old bones and seeds
and the verses that were left behind
hiding in the dew of each flower
in the shape of each leaf
in the golden rays of the sun
that melts the blankets of snow,
and chases the shadows of death
away from the majestic mountainside.


Along with the ripples I travel to
that place where you grow wings,
and get to live a second life.


My voice becomes an echo of the
winter that carried me here,
my body is an instrument


Through which the nature flows its
perpetual course in the open
wound of mankind...


In this game of taking, leaving
and returning, I found the
deep meaning and sense.




These mountains won't stop me...
I will die, transform
and end up in their womb again
to be born once more..and
the mountains won't stop me
as I am one with them.