This is the mountain my son spends his days. Nestled by endless peaks and valleys. Far away from his bed that I miss him sleeping in. His laugh that I miss echoing through these walls and into my heart. The daily musings of life over morning coffee. And our endless talk of the birds, their beaks open, taking the sky into their lungs. Their song making its way to our kitchen table.
I sometimes long for the olden days. The ones where the nest is full with feathers and warmth. The ones where they flew away but came back.
These mountains ridges that reach to the heavens bring me comfort. They hold my son in between their peaks. The sun that touches them in the morning and tucks behind them at night lightens my sometimes heavy heart.
If I could just reach across this county to take him into my arms, I would sleep well tonight. But, I surrender. I let the air between us swirl and dance. As I curl up in bed I tuck us both in, me in the covers and him in my heart.
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With Kimberly Payne
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