This is the place: Where mountains hold And roots grow strong And water spills Into the valley. This is the place: Where plow strikes earth And seeds sleep long And thirst so deep Here in the valley. This is the place: In long, straight lines And narrow paths The river must go To feed the valley. This is the place: Where water will flow Sustain the land Till Zion thrives Here in this valley. This is the place: Where crops will grow And houses form A city planned Stands in the valley.
This was the place
Where branches
trailed lazy fingers in bracing streams,
And knotty river banks
housed warblers and hummingbirds,
skittish chipmunks,
mighty bucks,
otters flirting with the current,
as the river gurgled,
and trickled,
and nursed
the valley.
And this is the place
where, perhaps,
straight and narrow
was not the Maker’s intent.
Where the path to truth
takes a winding route
and breathes life along the way.
This is the place
Where we carved creation into neat lines.
Where now
we undo what was done.
Young trees grow
on a meandering riverbank,
and a reawakened birdsong
tumbles and rolls along the current,
as river otters whirl in the eddies.
Jeanine Eyre Bee has a BA in English and a minor in Writing and Rhetoric. Her writing has been featured by the Mormon Lit Blitz and BYU’s Criterion. She loves living in Utah with her husband and being a mom to her four young kids. It can be hard to find time to focus on her writing, but after practicing with four babies, she can now type thirty-eight (38) words per minute with one hand while nursing.
