The Mountains Are Calling

They are the miraculous result of century upon century of
shifting tectonic plates
from heated eruptions
The mountains call me
I listen
I will go to them, climb them, seek shelter from them, honor them
I will absorb their wisdom as I have so gratefully drawn upon
the wisdom of the pines—
my lifelong protectors
Perhaps it is my older and wiser state that calls me to their majesty
Perhaps I am called
to the foundation of creation
as I come nearer the time
I will be released
unencumbered
into the harmonious flow of the heavens
I wait with an open heart

Tricia Schwaba 2024

I Suppose

I suppose the voice has been with me since before my time on Earth.

And once I was conceived it guided the timing of my birth

Into the perfect circumstance for just that prime succession

Of events that would bring the lessons that would eliminate my obsessions.

I suppose that my mom and dad were chosen specifically for me

That the combining of their energies would offer exactly what I needed

To evolve into the adult that I have so uniquely become

To stand upon my mountaintop and beat my solitary drum.

 

I suppose that when I leave the Earth there will be a certain kind of heartache

& my energetic influence will be shifted to another time and place

Perhaps that voice will call, to remind me of what lives on

As I find an orbit in my new found sphere and new oceans to make waves upon.

Tricia Schwaba Poetry, from the archives