The Woman On The Mountain
A sparrow knows blood and bone
Still they fly when wings are broken
When the winters come and gone
A sparrow's nest is barren
Barren like the mountain.
Rest your weary eyes and feet
You've been a mother, father too
Now I lay you down to sleep
Mother, how I love you
And how I love that mountain.
Before you join the ones who've passed
Tell us how to live without you here
I need your steady hands to last
To hear the song you sing so clear
The song of the Mountain.
When another sparrow falls
Shall it go unnoticed?
Lord, won't you help us all?
Like the woman on the mountain
My mother on the mountain.
Give your honest opinions, as always. I wrote this after my my grandma died and I saw my mother grieving. I've edited it quite a bit since then, but it's difficult as my judgement is clouded by emotion.
My family is very deeply routed in Appalachian culture (hillbilly, if you will) and very religious. If you can't tell.
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Posted Nov 23, 2019, 1:32 AM UTC