Driving through the land,
Under the bunches of cotton,
Hung above in the air.
Through and in between,
The carpets of green,
That stand round and tall,
Large and ominous to us all.
We see the land,
Divided in roads,
Pointing in all directions.
Spreading out far and wide,
Across the dry country,
As we take our own paths,
To where our hearts and minds seek.
A journey,
Surrounded by the raw nature of the land.
Taking my breath away,
While cradling my heart in it’s hands.
Reminding me,
Home is all around,
Anywhere creation is found.
Hay's Corner 