In My Mountain

Relaxing in the mountains alone,    
Borrowing birds as loud as a train,    
A warm feeling, but I am cold,
So calming, like relieving pain.

The raindrops are feathers so light,
Blending in with my tears.
The creek is running and rushing, crashing on rocks,   
The ferns are frosty, I feel cold and hot.

The towering trees are so beautiful,
So tall, as old as time, the branches are longer than the earth.
They are not just objects,  
They have their own story, their own universe.    

Everything’s muddy and super wet,
But I don’t care, I don’t fret.

I’m so free prancing around,    
I have my own story like a tree,     
But I’m not stuck to the ground.

I was like a tree growing but not going,    
At last I am done, and now I am going.