This valley is shaped like Yo-Yo’s cello
that plays sun and shade and bread and butter
without fail, counting on itself through time.
I know it is one of the mother’s backs
one of the Bible’s depths, one layer of
regeneration—citied or countried.
When I open my mouth, its sounds pour out—
or so I wish—inviting all peoples
to travel here in spirit and partake.
This valley is my intention, calling
me in, calling you too, to voice our lovein music’s international soundings.
Posted for Poets United Poetry Pantry #217
Inspired by Marian's The Valley at IGWRT