Ripping a barn down

with a crowbar and hammer

is better than yoga

for helping a person

learn to see, and to breathe,

and to enjoy being.

The sound of Kentucky rain

splattering coveralls and planks

is a spirit symphony

and the smell of moist earth,

red clay mud and lingering

autumn leaves is aroma therapy

that cannot be replicated

nor purchased at outlet stores;

this oneness, peace,

that comes with stiff muscles

and wind-reddened cheeks

is a by-product of a love affair

between a woman

and her land.