In this house there is room for me and my sons
Like the corner with my desk and shelves full of books
Where my boys crawl on my guitar case
No single use for any single space
Every room unselfishly yields
To everyone who needs to feel warm
In our kitchen is our table where we feast
Some foods finds our bellies and some our feet
Every meal a liturgy
Cook, pray, eat, make a mess, clean, repeat
Every meal a liturgy
Cook, pray, eat, make a mess, clean, repeat
In our house there is five mirrors
They serve us as our educators
They’re graced smiles and shaving cream
Slobber, laughter, and sometimes screams
But never more beautiful
Than when reflecting my bride back at her
In her morning grog and pre-sleep routine
In her untamed glory and groomed beauty
Blessed are you, bathroom mirror
When her image you are graced to bear
Thusly are you converted
From ordinary to the sacred
This small house speaks the name of my bride
She has room for me and my boys inside
She feeds our bellies she leads our meal liturgies
And her face beautifies utility
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