Spirit House

I lived in a spirit house
Of blood and clay designed
And though I was a guest within
I lived like it was mine
At times I felt its poverty
And I thought that poverty mine
But when I needed shelter
Into that house I would climb
For the rain it poured like music
While the lowly hearth did roar
And I sang inside my spirit house
As the wild wind raved at the door
I’m always on the run and I hate copy paste for god’s sake
The night I left the spirit house
I didn’t say goodbye
Just heard the plainchant of an owl cry
And then I went outside
Where the night was strangely sonorous
And more fragrant than before
And I reached out for my spirit house
But those walls were there no more
And when I found it was a dream
I knelt down on the floor
And thanked those beams, so long-strong and so unseen
And gently shut the door
Bless this house
Doorway hung with oranges and cloves
Altars of cinnamon and rose
It’s granted you to live a while and know
Bless this house
Morning when another day’s begun
Find me on the hillsides where I run
Gathering the white rays of the sun