Wednesday, December 07, 2005


I am a country, waiting to be explored. It appears to be all beauty and splendor on the surface, but the real outside layers of my being are the borders that I make. Most can enter but few can afford to stay. And you're not all wealthy enough in spirit and soul to purchase my souvenirs. But as for looking, you can do that. Then you can decide if you have the fortitude to dig deeper.

See, you have to not only take the snow-capped peaks you see from a distance, but you have to learn to appreciate the eroded hills that make up the countryside. I'm not only a sparkling beachside tourist town, but also an inner city of struggle and hardships; of lessons about how inexpensive the necessities really are if you're willing to give and receive them. I not only harbor a nightlife that would be a theologian's or music lover's delight, but I also have quiet dinners at home, tea and Scrabble with some friends, and enough passion to fuel a lifetime of evenings made for two.

I haven't any fears of terrorism or tourism. I know enough to see who has come to harm and who has come to explore. I want others to see this country that I have cultivated and struggled to maintain for the last 25 years. I am proud of my work; and yet still eager to see what visits from others will do to boost the economy of my personality and spirit. I am anxious to see how the elements will alter my facade over the remaining decades of my existence.

So I'm inviting you to come in and take a peek. You don't need money, just a rich soul and the curiosity of a child. Oh, and ... some muffins and a block of sharp cheddar wouldn't hurt.

* * *

By TuesdayPillow used here with permission of the poet.
All rights reserved.

file under;

No comments: