to you,
dear home,
I have layered within you
years and years
of soil filled seeds
sunflowers stretching
into the sky.
I have sung my sorrow
into your spacious breadth.
Your tall tall ceilings
into which my voice could fly.
I have whispered all my dreams to you
and you in turn, wove my dreams into quilts.
Laid me down.
Watched me rest.
I have cried into you---through you---
filled you with my salty tears
and you drank my grief up,
held me
as I am.
It was you that listened.
always.
You, dear home, are so beautiful and spacious,
I was able to bring the outside--in.
My shelter became a safe place
for others to seek comfort in.
Friends, guests, travelers, neighbors
ate your garden fruit,
slept on your sunken couch,
made giddy by your sunflowers,
drank tea on your sun-stained porch.
I came to you scared.
-the most alone-.
afraid to eat
afraid to play music
afraid to sing
afraid to share
afraid to love
And in your living room you gave the most precious gift of all----
a monthly salon
for years and years
you held space for us to share,
listen, dance, sing….speak.
I learned to play from my heart
and be supported by a community--
friends that I too would support
by creating space
for them to express.
And the people who have lived within you
long-stayed or short-passed through
have become my family
for life.
dear home,
you have given me too much.
As I travel onward
I will still be filled with you.
love,
