A tiny house nestled in the deep forest.
Sharing the ancient life of the deep forest folk.
My soul breathes, but I cannot see the sky.
A tiny house, its porch spilling out into the meadow.
Living on the edge of forest and green space.
The forest folk bring their young to play and eat berries.
My soul breathes, but not enough sky.
A tiny house, porches flung wide on the South Dakota plain.
Sky so big my heart expands beyond its walls.
The wind carries tales of ancient warriors.
My soul breathes, so close to home.
A tiny house high on the sand dune, the porch lined with sea glass.
The ocean pounds her fury, or whispers her peace.
The moon waxes and wanes on her waves.
Wild ponies share my garden.
My soul breathes, the sky never ends. I am home.
