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The Valley Between Mountains
October 17, 2014
Rugged, tossed, and tattered though his clothes may be,
He emerges from the forest and into manhood,
And the fire in his eyes proves that he’s free,
As he embraces civility the way any man should.
Like his year in the mountains, a tireless cascade,
He moves through the forest of thought.
The people are trees offering him shade,
And the rivers are rife with fish to be caught.
His countless hours of training behind him,
(With decades more ahead),
The newborn man now walks the brim,
Of the glass that old men dare not tread.
© Photo by Michael B., Denham Springs, LA
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This is a poem that I wrote to succeed a short story that I wrote about a boy's one-year trip alone through the mountains after his prior training. The story was about a boy learning to believe in himself.