by George Fogarty

Who am I?

Image: Adam Carmona

By George Fogarty

I am the river that flows round the stone, I am the tree that stands all alone, I am the first star that appears in the west, I am the voice in your head when you rest, I am the window that’s bright in the dark, I am the fire that’s lit by a spark, I am the hill that has been here for years, I am the graves that are watered by tears, I am the mountain that reaches the sky, So I ask you to tell me; who am I?

I am the rock that dams up the stream, I am the tree that is felled by machines, I am the dark clouds that cover the sky, I am the whisper that tells you to die, I am the house that is empty and dark, I am the cold wind that snuffs out the spark, I am the hill that has crumbled with years, I am the lives that were lost through fears, I am the steep cliff that blocks out the sky, So I ask you to tell me, who am I?

I am the river that wears through the stone, I am the tree that has since then grown, I am the star that is glimpsed through the clouds, I am the voice that keeps you in the now, I am the pilot light in the dark room, I am the second match to make the flame bloom, I am the landscape surrounding the hill, I am the dead that are remembered still, I am the view from on that cliff high, So I ask you to tell me, who am I?

Image: Hannah Stone