I came to the crowded Inn of Earth,
   And called for a cup of wine,
But the Host went by with averted eye
   From a thirst as keen as mine.

Then I sat down with weariness
   And asked a bit of bread,
But the Host went by with averted eye
   And never a word he said.

While always from the outer night
   The waiting souls came in
With stifled cries of sharp surprise
   At all the light and din.

“Then give me a bed to sleep,” I said,
   “For midnight comes apace”—
But the Host went by with averted eye
And I never saw his face.

“Since there is neither food nor rest,
   I go where I fared before”—
But the Host went by with averted eye
   And barred the outer door.

Her life is a wondrous puzzle
The pieces all scattered
Begging to find their home,
it follows and it travels.
And it looks to find its destination.
"Are you lost?"
A million things jolt to the sound of that voice.
"Ma'am?"
And then she realized,
She was home.

la poésie est une manière de créer la
distance

où l'amour
entre nous
est trop pur