A Little Window
I have a little window
in the home I call my heart;
the panes are all kept sparkling
and the curtains drawn apart,
for on the sill, a shining,
burns a lantern, soft and warm,
marking a traveler's pathway
through the darkness to the morn.
I have a little doorway
in the home I call my heart;
the stoop is swept of evil
and a prayer is all of art
that decorates the entry
where the lamp flame spills its light.
May it be where ever you wander
in the blackness of the night,
the prayer will gently draw you
till you see the lantern's flame;
then, closer, to the doorway
where you hear me breathe your name.
No need to knock, my darling,
though you've come from, oh, so far;
you will find I am still waiting
and the door is never barred.
Copyright, 1987, Faye Gibson
|