If I live in a house filled with light,
would that be a house made of light,
or would such a home be a light house
to beacon a welcome to love
and those who seek it?
Be a home for those abandoned to darkness,
now, resettled with brilliance that burns
to heal the soul, expose the wounds,
allow alternatives to flourish
instead of burial by weeds,
compression into compost, mulch, detritus,
designed to turn you into dirt.
Light dispels darkness, purifies air,
exposes rot to make new soil, new growth,
the first signs of change, to alter and replace
what remains, to lift a house above its
foundation by filling its walls with windows
that each might open eyes onto
a home illuminated with unbearable
desperate wonderful inconceivable love
that shows itself blindingly to the world
to proclaim, this too is for you.
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