Feb 2021
The truck bounces as we navigate the rocky plains
With a thud we make a turn down a path we made for ourselves
We have some crates in the back with a month of loose groceries
Odds and ends of what we can’t grow or raise on our own
A ways down the path, through the grass and the rocks
Driving out towards a backdrop of snow-crest mountains
Just over the hill in the distance
Stands a small little house, painted white, roof of red
That we built from the ground to the sky
I look at you from behind the wheel, and I find you smiling back
In your eyes is the comfort of returning home
You reach out your hand, and I grasp it in mine
And we drive a little longer together
Pulling up through the gravel, we park in the cold
As I lean in to kiss your rosy countenance
But you turn the last second, and our lips meet in warmth
And I’m mist like the fog of the morning
Yours as always, gently reminded when I need no reminder
While we unload the crates, we hear a door loudly opened
Out comes our favorite little one running
Though he’s not very little anymore
You embrace him, not withholding your love and affection
Your delight in him never ceasing
He runs to my aid as I hand him a crate
With a kiss on the forehead for payment
As we enter our home, our own lovely home
We remember the work and the sweat
That was poured into the wood that makes up the door frame
And the time that was spent in the planning
But look at it now, so sturdy and right
Perfect for the family we started
So simple, so elegant, with a rustic appeal
A few paintings collected through the years of our love
After emptying crates, stocking shelves and cold pantries
Making meals from the harvest we sowed through God’s blessings
We decided the day’d reached its end
So we sat in the sunroom and looked out on the horizon
Holding hands and our son in our arms
Maybe this, sunset speaks
Is the way things should be
In our house on a farm in New Zealand
Maybe this, midnight sleeps
Is the way things should be
With your chest pressed on mine as I love you tonight
As our bodies dance and our tongues sing new tunes
As I hold you tight in sleeping, never letting you go for a moment
Your breath is my substance and your heartbeat my rhythm
Now drifting together in the most comfortable way
Beneath the roof of a house to ourselves
With a thud we make a turn down a path we made for ourselves
We have some crates in the back with a month of loose groceries
Odds and ends of what we can’t grow or raise on our own
A ways down the path, through the grass and the rocks
Driving out towards a backdrop of snow-crest mountains
Just over the hill in the distance
Stands a small little house, painted white, roof of red
That we built from the ground to the sky
I look at you from behind the wheel, and I find you smiling back
In your eyes is the comfort of returning home
You reach out your hand, and I grasp it in mine
And we drive a little longer together
Pulling up through the gravel, we park in the cold
As I lean in to kiss your rosy countenance
But you turn the last second, and our lips meet in warmth
And I’m mist like the fog of the morning
Yours as always, gently reminded when I need no reminder
While we unload the crates, we hear a door loudly opened
Out comes our favorite little one running
Though he’s not very little anymore
You embrace him, not withholding your love and affection
Your delight in him never ceasing
He runs to my aid as I hand him a crate
With a kiss on the forehead for payment
As we enter our home, our own lovely home
We remember the work and the sweat
That was poured into the wood that makes up the door frame
And the time that was spent in the planning
But look at it now, so sturdy and right
Perfect for the family we started
So simple, so elegant, with a rustic appeal
A few paintings collected through the years of our love
After emptying crates, stocking shelves and cold pantries
Making meals from the harvest we sowed through God’s blessings
We decided the day’d reached its end
So we sat in the sunroom and looked out on the horizon
Holding hands and our son in our arms
Maybe this, sunset speaks
Is the way things should be
In our house on a farm in New Zealand
Maybe this, midnight sleeps
Is the way things should be
With your chest pressed on mine as I love you tonight
As our bodies dance and our tongues sing new tunes
As I hold you tight in sleeping, never letting you go for a moment
Your breath is my substance and your heartbeat my rhythm
Now drifting together in the most comfortable way
Beneath the roof of a house to ourselves
