A House Too Large, A Home Too Small

Such a barren room,
But so much more
Than barely shelter.
Elaborately simple facade,
Crested moldings,
Sculpted ceiling
Textured in swaying circles,
A focus of visual attention,
As I lay on the floor to relax
My spastic back,
Twisted and knotted in tension.

Made of bricks,
Mortar, and stone.
All those materials
Brought together
For strength against the wind.
A hearthless home.

The winter wind blows so coldly,
Stabbing,
Sending chills to the bone.
No less as chilling,
Inside the material shelter
I call my mother's home.

The dense, intense emotions
Of love, fear, hope,
Of life--
Choking, suffocating,
Weighing so heavily,
Binding by the neck,
Pulling down the youthful,
And aged skin,
Of me and my kin.

The gravity, of gravity
And time,
In the echoes of a barren home,
So full of pain, fear,
Hours and days,
Equaling a lifetime of love.