The Mother Load

A Familiar Place

This is my room.

This is your room.

It is not our room.

We have all been here before.

This is my chapel.

It is your treehouse,

your orangery,

your workshop.

This is where we want to go;

a place that calls us closer;

a space that says we are home.

This is where we know everyone,

where people are few –

where our demons and angels surround us,

where we exist not by choice.

The walls are the colours in our mind.

The floor carries us around the space.

There are no windows

because there is nothing else beyond this.

The door is closed.

It always has been.

This door

to a familiar place.

– Melanie Minnaar, 2018

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