the refuge

    high in the trees
            there is a place, 

a refuge, 
      filled with vast walls
  made of glass

      where the birds keep 
one company 
          & the squirrels oft
     swing by to say 
            hello... 

   where sunlight 
              filters in
         casting a golden 
    haze throughout
              the space
    like some divine
              vision... 

It is not a house 
       but is indeed 
a home- 

  A place to find 
             rest 

  & commune 
            over
        bread and wine... 

  a place of 
      weighty conversation

where books 
          tower high

 & jazz music
         dances around
    the enclosure...

   not a house

   but indeed 
            a home.