Typewriter Series #3089
It Matters Not What We Call Cathedral
This is becoming a regular occurrence, and I am really digging the back-and-forth it leads to in the comments, so to all of you: Thank you, for reading these new and never-before-read Typewriter Series poems, and Thank you, for commenting, and starting discussions on them. Means the world, as per usual. I’ve also loved providing a little insight to the behind-the-scenes process that usually leads to each poem, the thoughts that lead to the words that lead to the lines that lead to the poem itself. I hope you’re digging it too.
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Anyway, onto the poem, and the audio reading/discussion of it, and the weird paper I happen to use each time to type it on. Dive in :)
I love you all 10,000. Actually, more.
Montana ♥️
A lyrical sermon tasting of sweetness. Reminds me of lilies of the field and birds of the air. I opened this right after a hard doctor’s appointment. Right words and the right time, as words of wisdom must be. As a currently unchurched Christian I offer my observation of Jesus in nature: He taught of love and peace to thousands from every creed when outdoors, by lakes, and on mountain tops. When within the walls of a church He mostly brought correction, and then once flipped over some tabletops and started a riot.