Advertisements
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.
Fantastic poem, and completely true. Nothing can replace the sublime sensation of a hard day’s work.
Thank you, Garrett,
for your wonderful and encouraging words. I am glad you understand where I’m coming from!