For you it might be the most boring six hour drive of your life.
Just flat land
And gas stations
And people you would be weary of if this were the city.
But it’s not the city.
That’s why it's boring for you.
In those miles of farmland reaching out from here to the horizon
You see only plowed, dry, withering cornrows
Next to rusted once-silver silos
And you don’t feel a thing.
I think the magic of the flat land only chooses a certain few,
Those whose souls live buried deep in the midwest ground
Below the frozen snow,
Below the fertile soil.
One glance out the car window
And my heart is stretching across the land
Reaching into every crack and hollow in the earth
Allowing my being to go free into the night.
The one word that always comes to mind is
It seems too sad to fit such a beautiful landscape,
But maybe this is why the land only speaks to some.
To those whose bodies do not fit their spirits
To those who need a quiet place to rest
Where there are only farms for miles
And you can finally feel.
You feel what you have been harboring
All the previous years spent numb
And somehow the biting, unforgiving Illinois wind
Restores life and warmth somewhere deep inside.
So look again, and don’t only look for what your eyes can see
And finally let those pains out
The land will take them
And do with them what she pleases.
And In doing so,
She will heal you- I promise.
This is the place you come from.
This expanse of miles is the only home you have left.
The land might seem unforgiving
But she will take care of you better than any city
Or mountain range
Or ocean view could.
Yes, here you will come face to face with
All the emotions this land has the power to bring up.
In them you will see yourself reflected across the earth
And discover that this is where you truly belong.