By Jessamyn Rains

Lines inspired by Sequatchie Valley, TN

This valley is written across my heart,
over its saddest days.
Wildflowers spring from the soil of grief

and from the ash of sorrow, young trees
grow toward the clear sky,
softened with white clouds.

The wooded hills, resolute and wise,
hold fast to the earth
and respond with grace

to the slightest breeze.
The fields are a green carpet,
a pasture land for souls,

and a creek tumbles over the rocks of difficulty–
wending its way across my rumpled thoughts–
making every bitter thing sweet.