The house stood stark, a place of fear, Where young years echoed shouts I’d hear. A choice arose, stark and so grim, To face the storm, or flee from him… No, her storm, that brewed inside, Where love and fury couldn’t hide.
So feet took flight, a silent plea, Towards the hills that sheltered me. Los Osos land, untamed and wide, Where secrets of survival hide. At twelve years old, a knowing deep, That in the wild, my heart could sleep.
My forts arose, in leafy space, A hidden haven, a safe place. Beneath the boughs, a whispered vow, To find a peace they wouldn’t allow. With sleeping bag and meager store, I built a life outside their door.
The trees became my silent friends, Their sturdy trunks, my fortresses. Each rustling leaf, a gentle sigh, Beneath the vast and watchful sky. I’d step inside, and turn my gaze, A fleeting glance at troubled days.
The scars remain, a map of pain, But in those hills, strength I would gain. For in the wild, I learned to be, The architect of my own decree. And though the path was rough and long, The trees taught me to stand up strong.
Pam Beach ‘Beyond the Blog’
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