the room is warm small wooden
wooden walls and warm blankets
fresh fire infusing the quilts with natural aroma
no lights - no lights necessary
evening fallen long ago
warm wine flavored like homemade burning acidic on the tongue soft in the belly
keys and chords singing quietly from a chair in the corner
time is quiet
pressureless
nowhere to be
noone to call
nothing to follow up
only to be
small crackles- pop and spark
the smell of you in the background - you made the fire
everything is close, the pulse of blood
nearness of now and the smell of your sweat
sound of your breath
you could hear the night outside with its chill if you weren't listening so closely to the heart
nothing to avoid nothing to heed
picture the table dim in the light of the fire covered in crumbs of bread made with hands hours ago
recall how it changed the mood from a day of work and activity - preparation for the soothing night
flavor falling down the throat softening crumbs of nourishment
wine corks broken to ease the mind and bring the soul alive
wrapped in the warmth
fires and quilts made with hands
time will pass slow and quiet then you will tire and come to wrap beside in this makeshift bed
these planks covered in foam and pillows, wrapped in quilts made with hands by fire made with hands
small words will escape into the surface and find the heart to resound with natural love forever
words will melt into awareness of aroma, sweat of the day, the making of food and fire
first a hand will caress a brow followed by a wave of gratitude and familiarity
maybe almost a tear because joy brings such things
tiredness of the body from work earned is different than tiredness of the mind
if there was awareness of the perfection of this here and now that would be it
this is home here
this is home now
this is love
forever