A collection of poems written at random times doing a random thing

Retreat

As the foggy moutain becomes clearer
I began to see a new face that I've never seen
It called upon me as you would a child
A whipser through the wind
A flutter in the air
And I listened and waited
To what it had to tell me.
Deep within it said this:
Let go.

Going back

You can run
You can keep running and never stop.
You can run to Earth's edges,
Where the ice walls are
And even past them.
But know that what you're running from
Will always remain at the origin
In which you left it.