God gives us a home
made of trees
and rounded hills.
A home
set high on a slope,
set back from the winds.
God gives us a home
made out of grace
and our original innocence.
With walls of mercy
and doors inlaid with peace.
A path from the wilderness.
And God give us a host.
A doorman with eyes upon the road,
a name ever echoing.
Registering slowly
as our own namesake given.
And a smile reaching from each ear,
an ever whispered,
'Welcome here.'
Yes, God gives us a home
a place to abide.
Where kindness
drips from the ceiling,
and love is the rule,
the substance of
its pillars.
The pillow upon which we lay our faces.
The fountain from which we
sake our endless thirsts.
The food put out on the table,
the warmth of the wide
deep hearth.
Ana Lisa de Jong
Living Tree Poetry
April 2021
"The door to the soul is unlocked; you do not need to please the doorkeeper, the door in front of you is yours, intended for you, and the doorkeeper obeys when spoken to."
~ Robert Bly
If there is anywhere on earth a lover of God who is always kept safe, I know nothing of it, for it was not shown to me. But this was shown: that in falling and rising again we are always kept in that same precious love.
~ Julian of Norwich
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