Everyone's Home

A tiny globe

Hangs from a string 

Inside of the window

On the third story

Of the brown house

At the end of the street

The wind rocks it back and forth

8.2 billion people

Call this place

Home 

But on the little globe

Are a bunch of tiny invisible lines

That divide

Those 8.2 billion souls 

8.2 billion individual homes

Rocking back and forth

On this tiny little globe

So many ways to govern on this globe

So many different religions, with different prophets,

Attempting to fill our holes

“This country is better”

“This philosophy more clever”

“This religion more honest”

“The guy over here is Agnostic”

“These guys tie in all the prophets 

And all the gods

And all the text 

And mesh it all

Into one big ball

And calls it 

A globe”

So souls like mine and yours roam

And wander 

Looking further 

Then the surface 

Of this earth

Living in the dash

Between death and birth

Certain minds don’t see the invisible lines that divide up this little globe

A few of us, I bet

See it as everyone's home.

-CH 9/26/25