I first heard her song when I was young.
A song that spoke more courage that could be sung.
I saw her move more than once, she struck my spirit, my soul, my love.
I learned her song and spoke of her lyrics in the dark.
My mountain was a woman, a hero, a spark.
I fought alongside her each day I woke,
her song was mine and mine was hers.
Like the wild, bloodshot flowers that grew on her hair,
our feet were aligned in colour and poignant flair.
I first learned her song when I was young.
I became my hardest climb, she my most beautiful view.
Together we move, yet alone I hum along to her tune.