Little Houses

March 22, 2015 life

All our lives,
we have moved
from one little house
to another.

The day of our birth
was our first eviction,
thrust out
from safety and warmth
into noise and uncertainty.

And then,
in our separation,
raw and unprotected,
we discovered walls
we could build ourselves.

And growing,
always pushing further,
we let our walls expand,
building elaborately,
seeking opulent security.

And always,
something called us
beyond our second womb,
until our walls grew too thin,
and we burst out,
reborn.

And then
we float free,
free to build castles of fancy,
poems of architecture,
not to live in,
but as monuments
to what we were,
and what we may become.