There is a place where my heart can grow.

Where the calm never breaks and tears never flow.

The temperature is never too hot and cold acts as an excuse for cozy behavior.

A cabin somewhere green and dwarfed by the trees.

A clear aired place where I can just sit.

My mind and soul long for it.

***

That earthy scent of mountain misery covers all outside.

Inside skylights alight the common living spaces thrown wide.

Not necessarily a huge house but vaulted and open.

A stand in church for the interior world inside.

One with nature and all it contains.

Until calm and contentment are all that remains.

***

Art clutters the walls but not to hide any hole.

A personal gallery and reflection of the soul.

Everything stands clean and well maintained.

I could host an afternoon tea with people I know at any point without embarrassment.

Work becomes fun and I am never alone.

Pets I’ve made friends with share my home.

***

I wish this place to be real.

And not just a vague place that I feel.

I am weary from all the tears, pain and conflict.

Part of me doubts its existence but I will not stop looking.

Perhaps it would heal my heart and soul.

Perhaps in time I could feel whole.