I am not Master in this house
This exquisite design did not come from me.
This house which breathes whether I will or not
This house that knows warmth from hot and
Chill from cold.
No, I am not Master in this house.
The one who crafted the blueprint
came long before my daddy did
calling me to my mama’s mind.
I am no more Master in this house
than rose is of vine.
Then who or what is
Master in this House?
What makes the feeble self
splayed against the backdrop of mind
think she can do anything regarding
the Master in this House . . .
except to surrender that
which is not mine.
In This House© by Nance Harding 2017. Excerpted from Love & Other 4-Letter Words: Reflections on Illness as an Initiation© Expansion by Paige Bradley, New York, USA (used with artist permission)
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