Humble Home

Blooming bliss, lead me on
Through the road I walk upon
Silk grass brushing my hand
Breathing earth, I understand

Scents arise, they twist, they spin
Smoke rolls soft beneath my skin
Mind goes quiet, lays it down
Finds the stillness, settles sound

Step by step, I feel the beat
Life's own drum under my feet
Open eyes, now let me see
More than what appears to be

Wooden gate, tall shadows fall
Ancient trees around it all
Fire waits behind the wall
Warm and wide, enough for all

Same wood, from field to door
Inside, outside, nothing more
Child meets what has no name
Learns the truth, without the fame

Truth lives low, truth lives plain
Smallest house, no gold, no gain
Truth lives here, truth lives now
Simplest door, this is how