Meadow

A fortress called Blog

I sometimes feel that what I'm doing here is building a fortress out of words.

Gates of metaphor and battlements of simile. Spiraling towers of chained letters.

All are welcome to come, the gates are always open, but I lie immobile in the center of the main hall, my extremities strung to the floor with consonants and vowels.

All I can do is smile, and spew words, build new towers, new wings, new rooms. Tags, posts, pages, tools, they grow up around me in this my home.

The fortress alive, like a tree it grows, but its roots are not in the dirt but in my mind. From my lips escapes the wind that caresses the leaves ever upward, stretching the branches, making the sapling become a mighty oak overlooking a valley.

And in the distance I see, as through mist, through the haze of words and the approximative nature of language, other castles and fortresses, other constructions. Some bigger than mine, as kingdoms in the sky they seem to me. Others are but humble hovels. It's no matter, to me they're all beautiful and awe inspiring, the efforts of beings springing forth as ripe fruit.

And I know, that at the center of each lies one like me, chained in the deepest of hearts.

We visit each other. And walk and see and talk. Admiring, learning, that's all there is to it. Pausing here to sink into the beauty of a well placed comma, and there to listen to the singing of a rare bird, one that makes its home only here among all other possible places.

And when full, we go back and continue the labor we love, continue building and creating and expanding. For us, and for others, and for the world at large.

The doors are always open. Today you come and see and hopefully, by the end, we will both feel fuller and satisfied with a connection newly made.

Welcome to my fortress called Blog. Tomorrow it will be my turn to visit.

#poetry#blogging#community