A Pioneer Poem (kind of)

Close your eyes, and listen.
Push past the sound of moving cars
and people
voicing their cares and worries
get past the sounds that we have
filled this place with
listen to the land itself
the way it rustles
the way it moves
Just by hearing, you can catch
the beauty of a place
and only by listening
can you somehow grasp
in the smallest way
how this country is free
wild
and free
Listen.
Can you hear their gasps
as the settlers first see our mountain?
They are tired and weary
they have buried their fathers and their mother
their children, the sisters
their brothers
along a trail of sweat and tears
and now they see
a monument
a grave stone
a glory
The Mountain gives them hope
Listen.
Can you still hear the way the land
pushed against them
the magnificent trees
the wild rivers
but it stilled called to them
because it was free
Can you hear them?
The way they persevered
still drudging through a constant mist of rain
they did not give up
they did not give in
Listen for their cries
when they are scared
listen to their fear
they are hiding from the indians
blood was spilt on this land
Can you hear their victory?
It was not one singular moment
but a string of little and great ones
when we became
Washington Territory
when they created peace
with the indians
when they built their first home
on this wild land
You can still hear the call of the land
it holds in itself
the secrets of those who first settled here
with sweat, tears, and blood.
All to tame a little bit of this
wild and free place
It was a special breed of people
who answered the call
You can hear this all
if you just
listen.