A Little Window

I have a little window in the home I call my heart; the panes are all kept sparkling and the curtains drawn apart, for on the sill, a shining, burns a lantern, soft and warm, marking a traveler's pathway through the darkness to the morn. I have a little doorway in the home I call my heart; the stoop is swept of evil and a prayer is all of art that decorates the entry where the lamp flame spills its light. May it be where ever you wander in the blackness of the night, the prayer will gently draw you till you see the lantern's flame; then, closer, to the doorway where you hear me breathe your name. No need to knock, my darling, though you've come from, oh, so far; you will find I am still waiting and the door is never barred. Copyright, 1987, Faye Gibson