The speaker asks for sunlight and time to build a small, secure home for the heart—a place of devotion, with an altar ready for the divine. The building is patient and deliberate, as if careful walls could keep life controlled. But a wild wind from the wilderness enters anyway, drawn to the shelter, and the speaker’s sense of safety collapses when inner storms arrive. What was lovingly built falls into ruins. The speaker does not rage or rebuild; instead, there is a weary acceptance of having to go out again along harsh paths to meet “the ordeal of the heart.” The mood is solemn, intimate, and quietly resilient—an acknowledgment that emotional or spiritual shelter cannot always be secured by effort, and that ruin may be part of a necessary inner journey.
Homeless — Summary
I ASKED for sunlight and a long, long day To build my little home. Setting an altar where my heart might lay Fire ere the god should come.
I built my walls with patient carefulness, Secure and small, nor knew A wild wind straying from the wilderness Had sought their shelter too.
My heart woke up in storms, my shelter sweet In ruins fell apart. Once more I go by cruel ways to meet The ordeal of the heart.