I awokethis morningin the gold lightturning this wayand that
thinking fora momentit was onedaylike any other.
Butthe veil had gonefrom mydarkened heartandI thought
it must have been the quietcandlelightthat filled my room,
it must have beenthe firsteasy rhythmwith which I breathedmyself to sleep,
it must have beenthe prayer I saidspeaking to the othernessof the night.
AndI thoughtthis is the good dayyou couldmeet your love,
this is the black daysomeone closeto you could die.
This is the dayyou realizehow easily the threadis brokenbetween this worldand the next
and I found myselfsitting upin the quiet pathwayof light,
the tawnyclose-grained cedarburning roundme like fireand all the angels of this houselyheaven ascendingthrough the firstroof of lightthe sun has made.
This is the bright homein which I live,this is whereI askmy friendsto come,this is where I wantto love all the thingsit has taken me so longto learn to love.
This is the templeof my adult alonenessand I belongto that alonenessas I belong to my life.
There is no houselike the house of belonging.