Build me a room that reflects me.
Hang maps on the wall like they’re sheets,
With bus stops and streets highlighted to remind me of the adventures I have yet to take.
Make them of different cities, countries, regions.
Express travel.
Put in bookshelf’s that can hold my bodyweight in novels,
Along with journals and scraps of paper I call home.
Leave room for trinkets and road signs,
But mostly,
Fill them with all you can find.
Ask strangers at bookstores for their favorite titles,
And put them up with the rest,
Ask the man at the junkyard for his favorite poem,
And slip it inside an unsuspecting title,
Surprise me.
Leave a stain of your coffee on the back of your favorite one,
So I know it was you who last touched it.
And don’t forget,
To fill the shelfs.
Leave the oak planks on the floor uncovered and raw,
Let them stay natural and bleed colors we can’t see.
Let me be able to kiss the ground and taste sap,
A touch of the forest still near.
Put post-it notes on the wall,
White or orange,
And leave them blank.
For I shall write a thousand quotes on a single one,
Sometimes with only my words.
For when you visit next,
My thoughts will be plastered on the walls,
And when you find one that you like,
Pluck it off the wall and take it home,
A piece to remember in your pocket.
Build me a roof that can protect this little room,
From harsh snow and sunlight,
But make it so I can still hear the rain,
As it slips off the house and into the soil,
Grant me that small sound.
Build me a room that reflects who I am,
Inside and out.
And if you can’t,
Grab a chair and join in a seat beside me.
We will find someone who can.
And it will be worth the wait.