Fresh Mountain Air

Fresh mountain air,

The chill in my lungs,

Rushes over my tongue,

Prickles my hair,

There’s something reviving about being up there.

 

Away from the chaos I find myself,

Perched on a mountaintop,

Ready to take flight,

No one to hold me back,

Or tell me ‘no,’

Or ‘I told you so,’

Or ‘don’t go,’

Because they think there’s nothing better than being down there with them.

 

Their demands are a pestilence,

But here in this mountain air,

There’s no burden greater than the rising sun,

And so I run,

Without a care,

Free with my soul.

 

Out here I reach equilibrium,

I am at peace,

Because life goes on,

From the break of dawn,

Till the sun goes down,

Everything is as it should be,

Day in, day out- perpetually,

That’s how I like to see it.

 

So when I’m feeling down,

I breathe in the fresh mountain air,

Feel the rush,

Taste the euphoria,

Because there’s something reviving about being up there.

 

This poem is about: 
Our world

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