1. Sometime before January 2006: I was with a group traveling to the fields at the foot of the mountains. We wanted to actually hike up to and through the mountains, for they were blooming in the spring with cherry blossoms. However, we were kept from the mountains by some threatening authorities. Or perhaps the far distance alone kept us from reaching them.
2. Fall 2006: I was running. I was running as fast as I could. I needed to reach the foot of the mountains. Over the green grass, over the green fields, to the pink blooming mountains. There were two layers of pink - the trees beneath the mountain and the mountains themselves. Though we ran faster than the wind, we did not make it in time. We reached the lesser of the pink ridges but not to the greater.
3. Spring 2007: Again, I was racing over the ground. This time, through the low mountains, along the hilly land. I found an abandoned village and went inside a building to stay hidden. Still, they found me and brought me to them. As I backpack fell to the ground, my weapon fell out. Yes, my notes and my books. And the enemy knew this was my weapon - for they were the ones who had taught me. 'Why, why did you not stay with us and rule with us?' They asked. Yes, these to whom I was loyal now stood to threaten me. What could I say? (Katzia)
In all the cases, the mountains are where I seek go.
I seek to run, to fly to the mountains. To run to hide.
Though I never am safe, I am not harmed.
What is it they want?
And why is it that I go there?