A yearning stirs within my soul, a love both fierce and deep,
For peaks that pierce the boundless sky, where rugged shadows sleep.
The mountains, oh, the mountains, a symphony so grand,
Their green embrace I miss, a vast and silent land.
I dream of crisp, untainted air, a wind that whips and sings,
Of trails that twist through fragrant pines, where freedom brightly clings.
I crave the sun on weathered rock, the moon on snow so white,
A canvas painted silver, bathed in the starry night.
A hunger burns within my breast, a longing to consume,
To swallow every peak and ridge, escape this sterile room.
For in their absence blooms a love that burns so bright,
A yearning for the peaks that fills my day and night.
To breathe them in until I’m full, their essence in my core,
No city sound, no worries found, just mountains evermore.
So let me climb again, beneath the open sky,
And hold the mountains close, until my spirit flies.
A love that aches, a yearning so true,
To be consumed, a mountain in me too!
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