Home Time

I did not choose it, but felt relief
when I saw the circular kitchen table
with its potential for community.

It was a blank canvas, ready for me to fill
with carved wooden furniture, batik panels on the wall,
swirls of incense and coffee.

I built this slowly, I’m still building it
decided I’m staying here, with my things from around the world
as histories merge by the light of the fire.

They said I had too many clocks: I didn’t listen,
put two in the bathroom. I love to see them moving,
love to watch the time passing.

I know those who refuse to wear a watch
so they do not see time slipping away
but here I am safe with the slow by slow years.

Every morning I meditate in the tiny shrine room,
this bright space within the chaos.
At night I bring my friends here, invite them to stay beyond home time.