The Lego House
For Johnny and Charlotte and Luke.
My friends live in a Lego-house;
a colourful, Playmobile construction;
small, contained and beautiful,
the garden a wild jungle.
The grey on the walls will soon be painted evergreen
and yellow runs along the alcoves, joyful.
Already we have laughed over pancakes and I have cried over copies of the week that our other friend has no time to read.
This is a house of victory, a dollop of grace, undeserved yet prayed for.
A home, sown in heartache and surrender, that now stands blue and hopeful on the streets of Bristol.
There might be no signal, there might be no fixtures,
but this house will fix me and fix them and fix those who enter it open hearted and willing
to learn the rhythms of life worth living.