The Golden Hills Whisper My Name

A nostalgic poem I wrote

The golden hills, they call to me, they keep whispering my name

"Come up to us once more Kevin Sood, come up to where you were made"

 

I pack my gear, I strap my boots, I dress in clothes for rough terrain

I begin the trek up the dirt ridden path, up to the golden hills whispering my name

 

The sun blares down with such intensity, its hard to tell the time of day.

Today, I must return to my place of birth: these golden hills whispering my name

 

The air is thick with the red clay sand, it begins to rest upon my tongue.

I grind the sand, with every step, as my boot comes down with a crunch!

 

The path is steep, my knees burn red, and soon I feel the pain

My pack grows heavy, my my mouth grows dry, my shoulders feel the strain

 

The air is hot, the wind unforgiving, they both blow into my face

The heat is like a demon spawn, trying to deter me from my pace

 

These amber waves of dried up grass may be ugly to the weak of brain

But to me, they will always symbolize, the golden hills where I was made

 

As I reach the peak, I drink the elixir of life, as much as my belly can contain

My heart beats fast, my legs grow week, the sweat pours down unrestrained

 

My body begs for rest right now as I stand looking down at the city maze.

I then taste the sand within my mouth which fills me with such amaze.

 

I live a life, dwelling on the past, where my present is just a shell

But what I failed to realize, until this day, was the earthly pain that made my spirits swell

 

For you see, my body aches and cry's right now as my muscles cramp in pain

But today take head, I'm truly alive, I guess that's why the golden hills were whispering my name.

Reviews

[Poetry Road]

Wonderful piece. I could feel you climbing the hills and felt the pain of the journey.