Where the windows are breathing in the light,
Where the rooms are a collection of our lives,
This is a place where I don’t feel alone
This is a place that I call my home.
Out in the garden where we planted the seeds
There is a tree as old as me
Branches were sewn by the color of green
Ground had arose and passed it’s knees
By the cracks of the skin I climbed to the top
I climbed the tree to see the world
When the gusts came around to blow me down
I held on as tightly as you held onto me
In 2013 i will read and write. i’ll tolerate the intolerable and i’ll talk to my mom, i’ll quit underestimating my father. i’ll lower my expectations, i’ll believe; but most of all i’ll be happy.