Calling © Poem by Roann Mendriq

The hills are calling, calling me,
home to where the earth grows wild;
Where whispering trees are reborn free,
and dance to the pure joy of a child.

Where the blushing earth arises,
to meet the beaming, glowing sun;
Where fresh, fragrant air suffices,
to spread peace to everyone.

Where ancient paths meander still,
down ways that never have been seen;
Where sunlit glades reflect His will,
in a million shades of living green.

The calling echoes in my heart,
"Too long, too long, we've grown apart"
©