Luke warm spirituality
What if all our steeples softened just a little
Pinches like people
Clouds with rashes
The air inside
Maybe the sound is the form itself
I hear the wasps building
The ear is our mother
Together we are mounds of strength
The opportunity to spend time untethered to all of the daily responsibilities that exist outside an uninterrupted residency inspires poems . Whether this manifests in writing, in thoughts, or in an actual piece of matter, the gift of that space to walk back and forth is immeasurable.
Township 10 allowed this precious occasion. It allowed me to feel the highs and lows that always persist, while providing me the consistency of a reliable place to work out those emotions and to begin connecting it all into meaningful ideas.
My sincere gratitude.
Those hills inspired ground work
Those hills rolled me this way and that
Those hills with softened tops
No need for sharpness