I have fire in the hearth
and radiance around the mantel;
wine pressed from grapes
that soothe grievous wounds.
It is a sunset sky streaked
with wild laughter
and thunder that relieves the
Dispelling the uncertainty that
folds in like mist, occluding
crisp vision and sharp focus.
Beyond treacherous willows and sycamores;
where oak is flame and renewal;
the floorboards tell tales and
lead to slumber of mythic
portrails that enwrap the body
of fragility with genuine might.
These are the treasures that we sought;
yet, were only available in between breaths.
These humble gates hold up noble banners,
providing real shelter and the starlit night
can truly be a jeweled marvel
that reflects the beacons, the bonfires;
telling the lonely their sojourns are over.
For home has been recovered.