like a home

some days are better than others
some days are sitting in the shade
of big oak trees, studying ants
and some days are watching rain fall
outside a white-framed window.
some days are driving fast cars
down empty highways, sunshine
and music chasing the whole way.
some days are absence and silence
and some days you come through
loud and clear, the need, the urge.
some days you are all i need and
coming home to you at the end of it.
some days the lack is deep and wide.

we look for these daydreams
to transform reality;
we dream with strength, with pride,
there is integrity in the dreamhome that we build.
structural, poignant, knowledgeable
about deep loss:
age is really nothing more
than a lack of dreaming,
and you and i shall be young forever.

in distant futures we share spaces
that are warm and full, like a home.
we cross paths objectively and subjectively
sharing objects, becoming subject to each other.
in distant futures we are a family
a unit, a single measurement of all the years
the months, the weeks, the days, the hours
of waiting
that it will take
to get to be a family at last.