Paris

Beyond the fabled city
Past the roads filled with commerce
And killer cars
A planned escape to a 2 lane road
Perhaps once a path to market or
A line on a General’s map

Through the tuber mountains
Furrowed fields stretch lazily on
To a village at the end of a rainbow
And an auxiliary prism plowed in further on

This must surely be France
The country of this country
Narrow gaps between stone, simple shops
and lasting buildings
Feline baked goods and a cat
Cleaning the sun from it’s fur

Books prone, resting after a search
For a proper bookcase
A hayloft becomes a sound chamber
Full of the things man made to praise
God, life and each other
Simple risks sit unheard, their beauty
Sculpted with love and imagination
Steel and glass no longer the enemy,
organic
And true, not a skyscraper but a prayer

A house, a place of work and worship
An elegant space for good friends and neighbors
Where love built a home
And parting makes it
So much sweeter and bittersweet

The path into this small town
Also leads out, into the other world
To destinations known and futures unknown
Where hearts will always sleep under
The same bright, distant stars
Forever.