Hey there . I've been thinking a lot lately about home and about what home means to me , and I am working on writing something about it . But today I just wanted to share something with you from Khalil Gibran's the Prophet . I turn to the words of this brilliant , brilliant prophet time and time again , and so this is what Khalil Gibran has to share about home .
Speaker 1Then a mason came forth and said speak to us of houses . And he answered and said and alone , your house is your larger body . It grows in the sun and sleeps in the stillness of the night . And it is not dreamless , does not your house dream and dreaming ? Leave the city for grove or hilltop . Would that I could gather your houses into my hand and , like a sour , scatter them in forest and meadow . Would the valleys were your streets and the green paths your alleys . That you might seek one another through vineyards and come with the fragrance of the earth in your garments ? But these things are not yet to be . In their fear , your forefathers gathered you too near together , and that fear shall endure a little longer . A little longer shall your city walls separate your hearths from your fields .
Speaker 1And tell me , people of Orphalese , what have you in these houses . And what is it you guard with fastened doors . Have you peace , the quiet urge that reveals your power , the quiet urge that reveals your power ? Have you remembrances , the glimmering arches that span the summits of the mind ? Have you the beauty that leads the heart from things fashioned of wood and stone to the holy mountain ? Tell me , have you these in your houses ? Or have you only comfort and the lust for comfort , that stealthy thing that enters the house , a guest and then becomes a host and then a master , ay , and it becomes a tamer and , with hook and scourge , makes puppets of your larger desires . Though its hands are silken , its heart is of iron . It lulls you to sleep , only to stand by your bed and jeer at the dignity of the flesh . It makes mock of your sound senses and lays them in thistle-down like fragile vessels . Senses , and lays them in thistle-down , like fragile vessels . Verily , the lust for comfort murders the passion of the soul and then walks grinning in the funeral .
Speaker 1But you , children of space , you , restless in rest , you shall not be trapped nor tamed . Restless in rest , you shall not be trapped nor tamed . Your house shall not be an anchor but a mast . It shall not be a glistening film that covers a wound , but an eyelid that guards the eye . You shall not fold your wings that you may pass through doors , nor bend your heads that they strike not against a ceiling , nor fear to breathe lest walls should crack and fall down . You shall not dwell in tombs made by the dead for the living and though of magnificence and splendor . Your house shall not hold your secret , nor shelter your longing for that which is boundless in you abides in the mansions of the sky , whose door is the morning mist and whose windows are the songs and the silences of night . Wow , I hope you enjoyed that as much as I do . Again , those are the words of Khalil Gibran from the Prophet . I'm Lisa Hopkins . Thanks so much for listening . Stay safe and healthy , everyone , and remember to live in the moment .