We do not gather lumber
We gather omens
The hush before dawn
The way your shadow leans toward mine
As if remembering something
From another lifetime
The ground does not wait for us
It opens
Recognizing the weight of our intention
Softening like a palm
Ready to hold a flame
Our foundation is a quiet spell
Your voice threading through my ribs
My heartbeat answering
Two currents braiding themselves
Into a single
Slow thunder
We lift the frame
From the unseen world
Pillars shaped from patience
Crossbeams carved from the silence
We have learned to trust
The walls are not walls
They are veils of light
Woven from glances
From the warmth that gathers
In the space between our names
And the roof
The roof is a myth we coax downward
A sky that bends its knees
Letting its constellations
Rest on our shoulders
Like a blessing
When we step inside
The house exhales
As if it has been waiting centuries
To become real
Nothing here is built
Everything here is summoned
A shelter made of devotion
A dwelling shaped by breath
A place where love
Finally remembers
Its own architecture
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Author:
Anthony Hanible (
Offline) - Published: February 22nd, 2026 06:29
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 2
- Users favorite of this poem: Anthony Hanible
Offline)
Comments1
Lovely metaphors in this piece it is consistent throughout in its building and has a wonderful message. Lovely
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