I have completed over a year of churn. It made my stomach churn as the world completed it’s turn. It made my brain churn with every twisted convolution earned. Nausea followed by irrational elation. Revealing many a revelation, redundant and redux, as prose does it’s full tilt churn. I have been spurned. Many a time burned. By the sun. By the moon. By the systematic system I so often have spurned. It churned up emotions long forgotten. It churned down to my low down roots gone rotten. Still I churn. Would have had it no other way. I now know that a good stiff churn has the potential of producing some of life’s sweetest, creamiest, savory butter. I think I will spend the next year’s churn spreading it where desired. “The thicker the better,” to no one in particular I mutter. So keep the faith. So keep on churning. While others proclaim they can’t believe it’s not butter. Parkay, I say, Parkay Olé.
https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/churn/
A Scroll Threw Life 