I\u2019m going outside.
\nTo the house in my heart.
\nWhere a clock finds its time
\nin tree boughs and light.
\nIts lintels are above a door
\nto a maple grove,
\nwith broad bay windows
\non a meadow.<\/p>\n
Great brown beams lift the ceiling
\nabove its walls,
\nthey have held against wind
\nand hail,
\nand only let the sun and rain
\nenter through their panels
\nin the sky.<\/p>\n
Verandas border the house
\nletting the air of spring and summer
\nventilate the rooms,
\nand the rooms have murals of
\nfar away hills,
\nand imaginal stars at night,
\nand contain or move their walls
\naccording to the space the
\nheart requires.<\/p>\n
The kitchen has the smell of fruit,
\nthe nuance of wines and sauces,
\nall held on racks of branches
\nfor maximum freshness
\nand garnishes of color in spring.
\nThe clear, transparent trickling of water
\nfull of mineral flavor
\nflows on the rocks of the sink.<\/p>\n
The furniture throughout the house
\nis for the weary,
\nwith cushions of grass,
\nantique carts to sit in,
\nrock with dimensions to adjust
\nto your own.<\/p>\n
Tables set to the ground
\nwith planks of old pine and walnut,
\nand demitasse posts for a glass
\nor can.
\nArtifacts set here and there
\nwith flawless attention to space and color.
\nA beautiful house that stays
\nwith time, and changes with the seasons.
\nA place where the heart heals,
\nthe eyes clear,
\nand to which the world is invited
\nany time it wishes.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
I\u2019m going outside. To the house in my heart. Where a clock finds its time in tree boughs and light. Its lintels are above a…<\/p>\n