Life in these mountains can be hard on women.
There are hard rock walls and hard rock times and
Rock hard faces in the midst of all this beauty,
But still we grow.
Our limbs are twisted, turned by cold winds and hard days
When the sunlight seemed frozen and the rain was harsh
And we could not find our way home.
But still we grow.
Then comes the day when we find our truth,
We find our way to our own salvation,
Whatever that may mean.
And still we grow.
We realize that our roots run deep and strong,
Running down through the rocks
To touch the earth and water.
And so we grow.
In our truth we find the Spring time of our lives.
The sunlight is brilliant and the rain is nourishing,
Washing over us with warmth and love as we lift our faces to the sky.
And so we grow.
Our feet are planted in the hard rock of these mountains
and in the bedrock of our faith
While we grow into believing in ourselves.
And so we thrive, like wild Mountain Laurel.
Photos by Bill Rhodes
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