Friday, June 25, 2010

Home is where the heart is

Once there was a dream
And you could say
That it was never realized,
Because of course that’s true;
This is neither my house,
Nor my view,
But how fortunate am I
To be standing in this place,
With the water flowing
And the light just so;
To see the dream --
Its texture, shape, intensity –
And then to carry that feeling back
To my tiny little cabin
With its unkempt yard,
The ugly plastic siding
And these claustrophobic trees
Crowding in, and blocking so much light;
To step inside and breathe fir-scented air
And feel the peace
that I’ve found here
With You.

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