Amy Martin

Soar

Amy Martin


I woke up in the wheat fields of Washington
Packed up my tent and headed east, into the rising sun
I rested where Alpowa Creek meets the Snake River
Where the hills were getting bigger
Where I could feel the weight of history and the pull of the future

I’m heading to Montana this morning
Don’t know what I’ll find there, but it feels like I might find something
Those mountains might be strong enough to hold me
Those rivers might be wild enough to free me
Those skies might be big enough for me to soar

I followed old Indian paths through Idaho
They’d been paved over and marked up in a language I didn’t understand
But mystic spirits still whispered in the tree tops
And at the end of the canyon I could feel her
Montana, Montana, you gonna be my home?

I’ve leaned over ravines up in Glacier
Wearing my mama’s hat, holding my daddy’s hand, I wasn’t afraid to fall
I think I was only six years old
But I remember feeling beautiful and bold
I think I’m ready to feel that way again

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