He showed me the house. Some parts you can move--
Like the sliding glass doors. It was built for you, It was built for everyone. Its windows Overlook the avenue. It’s bright and broad, it helps you be Who you are, you are inspired To stand in the living room and speak Words that will be treasured and wired To Timbuktu and set on golden Plates for exoplanets, words That are spoken here and heard there, Carried on the wings of birds, Carried through the undying roads Of Nebraska in the twilight, Where fields burst with seed, where smoke Rises from a meteorite. And the more we understand, The more we know, the more we are At home. I am just me, and smoke Rises from a green cigar.
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Yaacov David Shulman
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