Inner Houses

 The prompt for what's Going on is to write a poem exploring "Openings" or "Closings."

Inner Houses

I was opening my door
and people came in
some with dirty boots,
trampling through it
without understanding
the fragile architecture
of my inner life.
Some came simply
to warm themselves
by the fire.

I let them.

Our inner houses
don’t need to be locked
just because others are different.
We can allow each other
a glimpse of the furniture.

Some pieces will be admired
because they awaken a memory.
Others will be rejected
because they stir something
uncomfortable, unfinished.

Still, this is how we feed each other:
by seeing new angles,
new designs,
new ways a room can be arranged.

And sometimes we leave
with a small idea tucked in a pocket,
something that enriches us,
or enriches the other,
or quietly rearranges
a corner of the soul.