I wrestle with the recreation of my house.
\nIts dripping faucets, un-puttied panes,
\nfloors with the skin of old faces,
\nliver spots, lines, gouges.
\nBut it is my house.
\nIts cracked cement,
\nits unpolished bronze,
\nits stone steps mottled with lichen.
\nIt is myself,
\nand my comrade in arms.
\nIt reeks of love and arguments,
\npathless days, boring plainness,
\nand times when love scattered its bricks,
\nraised the rafters,
\nmoved like a new creation into the street,
\nand down routes where the street
\nlost itself in a golden web.<\/p>\n
Love ruled it,
\nand tapestries of sheer happiness and children
\nechoed timelessly into its wood,
\na patina of silver ghosts,
\ninterior happiness that would come over me,
\nor anyone with a wide heart.
\nSomeone said, this is a happy house,
\nand I knew it like a canon,
\nthe spirits that moved here,
\nthe celebrations, memorials,
\nbreakfasts in the sun,
\na carpet of flowers on the porch.<\/p>\n
So I wrestle with its recreation,
\nits repair,
\nand discover how changeless I am,
\nhow impossible to change.
\nHow I go from door to lintel to rafter,
\nalways the same,
\nand wonder if I am dead.
\nIf I am severed from the sky.
\nIf the sky itself is too low,
\ntoo small an emptiness.
\nAnd I know,
\nwhen I put my hand to the wall,
\nthat I am discovered.
\nThat the house is eternal.
\nI am eternal.
\nThat we can be a storm,
\na shadow,
\ndissolve into dust and cover pyramids
\nwith our sand.<\/p>\n
That I and the house smile at each other,
\ndaring a move,
\na step toward the end of time\u2019s oblivion,
\nand it is impossible.
\nOur roots grow in the laughter
\nand sadness of ourselves.
\nWe keep a happy watch by the street,
\nshowing,
\nthis is where Ted lives,
\nin his house,
\nlooking at his garden,
\nlistening to his family come and go.
\nHe doesn\u2019t change.
\nHe has found his eternity.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
I wrestle with the recreation of my house. Its dripping faucets, un-puttied panes, floors with the skin of old faces, liver spots, lines, gouges. But…<\/p>\n