“The wise woman builds her home,
but the foolish tears it down with
her own hands.”
Home
I soon am leaving, off for a wonder
land not so distant than the other side
a home that spells the same stars
underneath a moonlit cloud of awe
Or is it sky that stares back blankly
Call is the gentle presence of unseen eyes
The taste of salt, the melting ice
a remembrance of what never has been
But will always be as it seems
stuck in the middle of it’s own becoming
I soon am leaving, that is coming
again to a world’s envy and a sun’s
settled place in the straddle of time’s line
never questioning the longer stay
but always hopeful for another
This one it has been the beauty
within an overripe yet swallowed
whole fruit of darkness, the light blooms
but never fully open, it’s unfolding skin
Alive, it is— the place we call home
Prayer
Holy One, call us to live wisely with hands that build, and eyes that see the presence home
with your sacred dwelling place. Amen.