Cumberlands’ Quiet
There’s rarely a soul on this craggy rock ledge
Where the pine and the beech cling on tight to the edge
You can sit and then stare at the fields far below
Only seconds before the cool winds start to blow
In the height of the autumn, the maples are red
They’re yellow, they’re orange, and then some are dead
The forest is quiet and lacks much to say,
The sky up above goes from light blue to gray
You sit and you think about days that have past
Of times and of seasons that you wish would have last
Of love that was lost and of love that was gained
Of what has gone on and of what has remained
The mountains around you are doing the same
Though they do so while silent, not speaking a name
Long times and great epochs they’ve been here see
When Cherokees roamed through this vast wooded sea
Back in those days, there were elk, bear, and deer
The chestnuts grew high and rivers were clear
Men who were brave here could also be free
One farmed, fished, and hunted, and sought peace ‘neath the trees
With buckskins and matchlocks, they blazed through the trails
And with gumption and sweat, and with hammers and nails
They built humble homesteads and brought on their brides
And lived here with only their Bibles to guide
But smoke stacks and highways are now within sight
They’re far from these cliffs but they still are a blight
A bitter reminder of what is and was then
When women were steadfast and men still were men
From bowsaw and chisel, the land is now scarred
And prescription pill bottles caught the hollers off-guard
Suburbs are growing with folks from LA
Brand new charge stations chase the forest away
But up on this cliffside some peace still remains
The mountains remember a time before planes
‘Fore highways and welfare, ‘fore syringes and meth
‘Fore fumes from the factories hung on every breath
So you just keep on coming when given the chance
To sit here and look on the great, wide expanse
And seek out some solace from these frenetic times
In Cumberland’s quiet as God first designed
David Harris is the president of TruthScript. He is a writer and teacher of northern origins, but with southern roots in Mississippi. Now living in East Tennessee, he is an aspiring ‘holler scholar’. David has a BA in English Literature & Linguistics and an MSEd from SUNY New Paltz.