In a home built for all
each brick insists
his red’s the best.

A test laughs uncontrollably
teasing time in it’s face:

How many games will we play
how many robes will I change
before your toys trade their nervous fractions
for the smell of togetherness,
and find infinity
dancing drunk on freedom,
together singing each song
as loud as the other.

Dear bricks, dear bricks,
say something worthy,
a message to carry
through the silent stream
to wake the sleeping clay
that awaits a command
from the smiling sun
shining deep behind your red,
mixing forever
newer shades from above.