Highlights from Where We Live
Peonies at Bay:
the start of something beautiful.
Blue Table,
full harvest, small space. A metaphor.
There Were Deer
outside this window.
We Walked in a Dream
and dreamed.
There Were Cut Flowers,
some bought, some stolen.
There Was the Moon,
which meant June. And soon.
There Was the Night the Fiddles Were Playing,
and we crashed the party.
We Drove a Long Way
but only ended up home.
There Were Horses
on the way. Funny horses.
The Sky was as Big as We Thought
it should be.
At Times it Was Nothing
less than heartbreaking.
At Times We Broke
in, and weren’t supposed to be there.
Sometimes We Prayed
it could be better for everyone.
It Could Be Forbidding
—and astonishingly cold in our world.
We Never Could See
too far ahead.
Most Days, Looking Back, We Found
we had light.
At Times
there were barriers.
At Times There Were Fires,
and we thought we held the whole thing aloft.
But We Were Planting Seeds,
mind you. And things did grow.
Fields, Flowers;
fields, stones.
We Hadn't Yet Settled,
couldn’t yet settle.
We Kept Arriving,
and the horizon moved ahead.
We Saw Things
we couldn’t have imagined.
We Saw Ghosts
in our shadows, a homesickness.
We Saw Reality
in reflection.
Like Trees Walking
that you see but can’t see.
Or Like Homecoming
kept in the surface of a dark glass.
The Holy Places Came to Us
the way sudden water flashes through a dry river,
The Way an Old Path
takes you back, unconditionally.
Or the Way Home
remains unknown.
So that All the Views from Our Windows
were announced for our sake.
