The Country Of Marriage (And Love)

' There are no unsacred places,
 only sacred places, and desecrated places '    
                   - Wendell Berry    
In the country where arose    
the soft grasses bearing your name    
in their blooming stalks, I imagined    
myself walking into the heart of    
the yellow cover crop, bare.    
Flitting by, a songbird was your spirit    
Its chirping breaking the soft lull of    
wind through your hair, dancing with    
purple specks of tiny flowers barely known of;    
their mystery that of you ascending in    
my sleep. I didn't know of you fully in my    
waking, but knew the tenderness of you in    
my softened steps through the hottest field    
in summer when the grass was high and    
bent over in homage to its maturity.    
Sometimes, I hold you in memory this way:    
As an orchard, a house and a garden which    
are always present and never leave.    
I remember the colors of the flowers    
like the words which bind our sacrament    
each to the other.    
The level ground assured me I was    
sure in you and led me forward to    
comfortable shades at midday    
and sheltered places at night.    
Our bravery kept us going even    
through life's storms.    
I have trusted you as the gentle forest    
is trusted by the woodland creatures    
whom live their whole lives under it.    
The planting of us was no guarantee,    
yet I, as a farmer knew it was guaranteed    
and well prepared for.  I knew the crop    
return was to be a grand reward of the    
wild land reclaiming itself after being razed.    
I knew our land would absorb all rains    
and so would we absorb the unknowns,    
the whys of how we came together    
and flourished.    
When we drank from the well,    
there was too much to not be filled;    
our love overflowed and was a    
never ending source of resurrection.    
Like the wild fields, we embraced the    
right season for our plants to bear fruit.      
I never felt worthy of you but simply was    
inclined to surrender and that letting go    
was a blessed thing that seemed to need    
no understanding to thrive, as great Sequoias    
need no reason to live as long as they are    
inclined to.  I have sunk into you as    
ancient humus into soil under a canopy    
of trees.  I am a hidden joy that you    
discover lifting your branches and    
feeding your roots.    
I gave you all this that I have,    
which is little, but enough to satisfy    
each cycle of our lives and dissolve    
its own logic into a zero sum;    
its economy is its beauty.    
It has no fair market value and one day will    
simply return unnoticed like a crop of weeds    
which delight only butterflies and bees;    
it will return to itself, folding in upon its    
very creation and becoming its own    
origin, its own soil mold becoming it's    
own food for its seeds to grow from.    
It will be known simply as a love that was,    
and is, and lives on eternally.    
As poetry, my words as humble as anyone's    
will sing with us and our purpose to simply    
be and be satisfied.  My unbounded self    
is waiting always at your door to be greeted    
and invited in to share your hearth.    
I will wander but never leave, as a horse    
which always needs hay and water    
and gallops in circles around its barn.    
In the dark of night, I know you are there,
Death's smile is your smile and to you    
will I return at my end.  All things created    
in love return to what bore them and will    
unconditionally receive them.    
The soil does not discriminate.    
My love for you is organic and    
biodegradable and so are you    
most sacred in receiving it.    
(a non-entry in ' The Simple Life')  
(850 words)
Written by PoetsRevenge
Published | Edited 31st Jul 2019
Author's Note
This was inspired by the poem, ' The Country Of Marriage' by Wendell Berry
Written for ' The Simple Life ' comp., also entered in the 'epic' comp.
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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