I keep a front lawn of beliefs
and a back yard of cynicisms.
I have a three story house
with a basement full of the past.
the first floor is all business
while the second floor has emotional appeals
and the third floor is living, in the highest sense.
no, not sight, feel, taste, touch or smell
but more so of the realm of spirit.
I get distant views as if wings in flight.
conversations drift up from below as melodious tones
with buoyancy to them,
filling the now.
I am grandly hugged by space from great distances.
yes, there is the neighborhood surround.
the survey, there of,
gives me comfort and hope.
there is timely bustle
and occasions of remembrance do occur.
the whole of this,
gets dressed up as a person, myself.
and I wander about the rest of the town
as if my real-estate is not a conscious consideration.
after all, home is where the heart is . . .
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