On Cleaning the Bedroom

Soon the rattle and flurry of the day will settle
into a cool black hush.

May this room be a respite waiting.

May the weary who land here
find softness opening up to them,
thrown wide like two plump, white arms.

May these clean sheets
stretched sweet as a summer field
tucked neat and tight into the corners,
welcome tired legs.

May these blankets form a womb against
effort’s strain, harshness, and chaos.

May every wood surface shine like the pink cheeks
of children fresh washed for happy dreams.

May there be three good books at ready on each table,
and light enough to read.

A place for shoes to be tucked out of sight
so that roads are forgotten.

May grace and welcome be fluffed out
to the corners of this room.

Protect it from practicality.

Let its walls and floors be kept in reverence,
for no mere mortal sleeps here.

Let its windows dance with breezes
and checkered blue moonlight.

May the sighing songs of tree frogs
be ever welcome.

May this room stand prepared for the traveler,
and may my hands be used to make it ring
like a chapel lit
proclaiming the great rest to come.

—– —– —–

Featured Image by Paul Boekell

In the summer months, Rebecca lives on the back of a painted turtle who wanders the night sky collecting moon fizzles.