deep in the hills

Once I thought the land I had loved and known

Lay curled in my inmost self; musing alone

In the quiet room I unfolded the folded sea,

Unlocked the forest and the lonely tree,

Hill and mountain valley beach and stone,

All these, I said, are here and exist in me.


But know I know it is I who exist in the land;

My inmost self is blown like a grain of sand

Along the windy beach, and is only free

To wander amoung the mountains, enter the tree,

To turn again a sea-worn stone in the hand,

Because these things exist outside of me.


O far from the quiet room my spirit fills

The familiar valleys, is folded deep in the hills.


Deep in the hills – Ruth Dallas (1953)


images: Donnell&Day



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