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Taking It Home by Lelia Thomas

These immortal lands are untamed…
Filled of a spirit ancient and wild.

The smell of grassy knolls and wild-hearted cotton,
A skinny, winding driveway of gravel,
Twin oaks standing guard in front of a house—
Never forgotten—
Where Fair Folk once played.

And the miles of thick forests—
Infant pine and scented spruce, along with weeping willow.
A dip in the paths gives sight to the rippled lake,
New worlds are born here—
In simplicity and beauty—
Since times long ago.
Hawks fly above, the bass swimming far below…
Here is where the sun touches all
Where Imagination makes love to rose and thorn,
Where the earth is young
And the feet of Indian runners are reborn…
Where Fair Folk once played…
In this untamed land.

Details

Written in 2003, this piece is in loving memory of the days spent on family land in Mississippi. It is a place that has molded me personally and will likely continue to do so as I return for visits.