Parallel land,

the world between two ridges,

the country between two creeks,

equidistant lengths,

a place where the trees

grew along the streams

and the fence lines,

where the roads

were laid out straight

with the hillsides,

rocky, thin-dirt tops

by black deep-soil fields,

abundant water

by parch-dry land,

horrible storms

and broad, blue skies,

wild yet cultivated,

populated yet open,

a feeling of order

with a feeling

of imagination turned loose,

this is where

I grew up,

where I am reflected

in my being,

where God set me down

to be what I am,

a person of parallels

and contrasts

that He knows

better than I.

Copyright 2008, Jerry W. Engler