Earth and Straw

In the morning, as the light begins to spread across the meadow, I am delighted by the shadows and illuminations around the window in my sleeping room. I lie still and watch the walls move and breathe. The structure of this little house is so simple and organic – she lives.

The bones of the house are bales of straw, stacked like bricks for stability and balance. The outer walls are a lime plaster to keep the wind and wet at bay. The inner walls are sculpted of clay and straw. The scent of earth is always here. Sometimes I think I live in an earthen womb…

Hafiz is irritating me. I have read a dozen poems waiting for lines of joy and delight in the experience of being alive. Page after page hands me one critical thought after another. I’ll keep reading until I find something worth sharing…