All around the house
Are reminders of all the things you are not.

There on the floor, a pair of jeans
On the wall a painting
The stereo playing back someone else’s song
And rows of books on shelves,
Not one of them any more holy than what you might write
Today or tomorrow.

You say you keep these things around
Because they help you remember
Who you are.

You create this space, this home
Because you want a place where you always feel welcome
And somewhere to invite friends over for tea.

This rearrangement of rooms and décor is endless.
More photos, more books,
Some nice dishware –
It is never enough.

Don’t you know?

You are already host to the most divine guest
And there’s no time or place where you aren’t (really) at home.
So why all the window-dressing?

In this false house you’ve made
You’ve forgotten One Thing…

How can you expect anyone to feel welcome,
When you haven’t even made room for yourself
At the table?