We dream of homes with cozy rooms and flowering gardens,
a place for everything, a place for us.
A thing I didn’t used to let myself want.
I could only see the tornados in their path,
the broken hearts buried in the garden
marked with gravestones.
But you chased the ghosts out from the corners
and showed me the quiet in the chaos
and the beauty of the stillness,
a place where green things can grow.
And it became a home
because you are here.