I will drive across my beloved Tennessee today, every mile a devotion. I will cling to the byways, the ridges and the many boarded up towns and hulking factories long since emptied. It will continually remind me of my youth, my elders and the many days filed to my years and how many times I was washed up on her shores and welcomed home. Tennessee is in me, sown ancestrally, like some ancient relic, sacred and deep down. Most all my family was born on her and are buried in her as are and will me and mine. I don’t know of any land that is so beloved cept maybe Texas which actually nicknamed us. Even her name is like your lovers, when you say it out loud in the most intimate or desperate times, or like Jesus when all is lost but Him and saying his name is completely enough—Jesus—Betty—Tennessee. I will traverse her again today and like a beloved we will court, quietly but surely, as we once again spend a day together.
 |
| An artifact on a byway in East Tennessee built by a master artisan bricklayer. |
No comments:
Post a Comment