And on the seventh day of driving we rested.  Woke up slow as Missouri and poured coffee into bottomless cups.  Church was the three of us doing yoga in the kitchen followed by a message of grace.  As noon approached we donned our Sunday best and headed into town for brunch.  Us ladies in dresses , we black eyed susans awake with conversation while that prairie stretch of road lay fast asleep until tomorrow.  This is how creation happens.  Planes scaled, explored and called higher into mountains.  Rivers running through the veins of our country bringing life blood to each stretch of earth it touches.  Delicate joy in useless flowers faces; there is no need for beauty, it is pure pleasure present.  There is no need for rest, but on the seventh day we do.  Turn our flower faces up and give pure pleasure back.  Gentle reciprocation and bottomless cups of conversation while tomorrow sleeps until morning.


About amyleighcutler

Writer, dancer, vagabond extraordinaire
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