Of This World, Its House

Is not the same as self,
Not the same as your team,
Your group, your faith, your kin,

But it’s close—you feel it,
Feel it fit you when you
Feel well, when you look out

And say, I am, we are.
There’s not a one of you,
Hung up in nets of us,

Who has not been hit hard
With that twin view—the world
That is not you, the world

As is all part of you,
The words you build your nets'
Nests with, us, who blur sight,

Wrap the one world up as
Two—you and all you are,
Ghosts of this world, its house.