The Place I Yelled God’s Name
for the Blue Ridge Mountains
Some people are born in the arms of heaven—
cradled by the Blue Ridge, kissed by mist,
where stars aren’t swallowed by city light
and air tastes like it’s never been sinned against.
I’ve only ever borrowed that life.
A week here. A weekend there.
A rented cabin. A passing prayer.
But oh, how my soul remembers
what my zip code forgets.
I once screamed into those ridges—
not from pain,
but from something holier than joy.
My husband stood beside me, silent,
until I asked,
"Wanna scream, too?"
Because how is it fair
that beauty like this isn’t handed out equally?
That some people live inside the painting
while the rest of us just frame it in our minds?
I’m jealous, yes—
of the ones who wake to that stillness,
who know the song of fog at sunrise,
who get to call that view their Tuesday.
I think God lives there.
Or maybe He leaves love notes in the trees—
and those who live in the mountains
just find them first.
Someday, I won’t just visit.
Someday, those hills will know my name.
But for now, I write it in the wind
and let it echo between the pines—
my quiet way of saying:
please save me a place.
Author’s Note
This poem was inspired by a prompt from my Threads poetry community. The incredible @aloradayepoetry asked us to write about jealousy or envy, and I didn’t think I had anything to say. I don’t usually consider myself envious. That is, until I started talking to @elliehoovs—who’s also on Vocal.
She had replied to a thread about where we write from and mentioned that she lives near the Blue Ridge Mountains.
Cue my heart lurching.
I love those mountains. I don’t live there—but every time I visit, something inside me quiets and wakes up all at once. The air is different. The stars are visible. The silence is sacred. And suddenly, I realized: maybe I am jealous. Not in a bitter way—but in a longing way. A “maybe that’s where I’m meant to be” kind of way.
Funny how a simple prompt and a short reply brought me back to the place my heart hasn’t stopped calling home.
Thank you for reading. And if you’ve ever felt this way about a place, I’d love to hear about it in the comments. 💙
About the Creator
Carolina Borges
I've been pouring my soul onto paper and word docs since 2014
Poet of motherhood, memory & quiet strength
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Comments (16)
This was a brilliant read Carolina👏 "and air tastes like it’s never been sinned against."- great line. The ones about God and the painting were both memorable too. Loved it!
Very evocative! ⚡💙 Bill⚡
"That some people live inside the painting while the rest of us just frame it in our minds?" This part was a heavy hitter for me, Caroline! I am one of those people who began finding her way to the inside of the painting a few years ago after major surgery. I thought it would be a long and painful process- IT WAS NOT! It's funny how sometimes a shift in life creates a shift in mindset. Beautiful work and congratulations on your top story!
Magnificent writing, Carolina! Such beautiful work! Thx 4 sharing! 🌸
Beautiful and Amazing! Thank you for sharing!
What a powerful and visceral piece! The raw emotion in ‘The Place I Yelled God’s Name’ resonates deeply—your vivid imagery and honest reflection create a space where readers can truly feel the struggle and transcendence. Thank you for sharing something so real and moving
"Or maybe He leaves love notes in the trees— and those who live in the mountains just find them first." They really are the holy places, and the acolytes who live there are blessed indeed. Beautifully rendered as always!
Beautifully written… I want to visit too! Some of my favourite lines are: “ That some people live inside the painting while the rest of us just frame it in our minds?”💖
Excellent poem and congrats on the top story! Need to get to that part of the country
As a full time traveller, I can relate to this piece. Congratulations on a well deserved top story.
Goosebumps in the best way!
Beautiful.
Wow amazing. The freedom and beauty nature provides. Lovely poem. And congrats on top story.
Girl!!!! The way this gave me goosebumps and chills and tears in the best way! You have made these gorgeous mountains I am fortunate enough to call home so proud with your tender words. I love that such beauty came from a negative prompt, an honest conversation, and the longings of your heart. If I'm fortunate enough to have that cabin on a mountain some day - I'll be sure to save you a place.
Carolina, you expressed your heart so well and the majesty you felt. I have never seen the Blue Ridge Mountains, but your description to me as close as I'll ever come...thank you!
Even as a relatively non-religious guy, love the lines on god leaving love notes in the trees