A House Somewhere

1980's




There is a house somewhere
That might have been mine.
It sits in the sun
But has lovely shade around it.
The windows are always open
And the flowers sit outside the door.

There's a path to it...
Cobblestone or slate.
The wildflowers bloom along it,
And everywhere around.
The vines shade the windows...
Of roses...
Or honeysuckles.

There's a fireplace
With a padded rocking chair,
With light-- maybe natural--
Coming from high windows...
Or coming from lamps
And candles.

The floor is solid
With rugs covering it only in places...
A kitchen where I cook bread
And make wonderful flavors.
A bed for rest...
A desk for papers...
A door front and back.

I have fruit trees,
Some I planted myself.
Grapes, berries, a garden.
I've learned how to can.
I know when to sow and reap.
I have friendly animals
Who live natural lives.

I sit there... on a swinging bench
On my porch,
Or lay on a hammock under the trees
And let the world revolve
And unfold around me,
And I listen to the sounds of it...
Feel the times of it...
Catch all the breezes and smells.
I find something about God
All around me.

There's a pond, large and shallow
Where I go,
And all is as an eden...
Fresh, innocent, untouched,
Shining.

I think of the shining.
I want to shine, too.




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