My Grandfather (HS 136)

He walks around the valley every morning,
deep in composition beneath the shadows of trees and cliffs,
a circuit of crystallization, mile upon introspective mile.
For the love of poetry, he abandons the present a while,
each asphalt taken step echoing more words,
his mind focusing deeper into a quiet center.
This faithful pathway generates his inspiration,
a rush of reflective divine collection,
a tapping out of words commanding him.
And when the final syllable has captured him,
he returns, makes his earthly reconnecting way home,
brews a cup of thoughtful tea,
then sits down at his desk, a sacred place to record
what his meditation will channel through him to the page.

* * * * *

Happy #WriterTuesday : ) Today’s writing prompt is


Use the #WritingPrompt to inspire a piece of writing, and then post that piece as a comment below. I would love to read it : )

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