Seeing in while looking out, is that it?

Standing at my kitchen window 

I hear song and bells. 

See the light. Wonder at faith. 

I hold unseen love against my bones

and unpolished granite stone.

A narrow path takes me where I want to go

and trees hang over the way. 

There are flowers and weeds: 

The weeds don't know the difference.

Nor do the lilies. I am still learning. 

xo