Strong

Walking footsteps I have walked before

Treading the verge of memory and here

Is where I am remade, healed, rested

Maybe it's the feeling of being wrapped 

Within, or maybe it's the strength in the

Ruggedness of the country that taps into

Deep wells of knowing the mettle we are 

Made from, small and fragile, yet it is 

Something more within the veil of our

Deeper self from each thing that pushes

Hemming us in, molding us constantly

If we but submit to the push and pull

Not drawing away, straining forward 

Through it all because we know these

Are the hands of live that make us