Our house, built wood, wind, music.
Each ladder a tune, rung, a poem or two.
Passing water through jars for coffee.
Humming the beauty up from streams.
Singing and feeding on love.
What sustains us, lullabies
and stories. The mountains grandeur.
Each night, we compose
Our own song.
Of the river and resurrection.
We speak of paradise.
Letting each shrill bird
Build the nest of their dreams.