Up the Staircase

In the dark, in the light, and in the quiet night, the bark of my sweet home gives me flight. In the moon, in the sun, both have begun to shine, while the other planets just have to run to get their fun. My home studies under the night sky, and in the daylight, but I feel most emotion, coming from the staircase leading to my bedroom. I know that because every night and morning, I can memorize the exact steps and rhythm I go down. We have become as close, as friends can be. My throat quotes my staircase, and I do not tell jokes! For when I reach the dark passage way, through the hall I stop. And my heart beats, thinking something at any moment, will jump out at me; but I finally reach my bedroom, and I see my bed. And we socialize, even when we should not speak, but on that week, I will fill that leak. Because there is no other place, I would like to die, than on my precious bed. And I hate the very dreaded thought of leaving home, but I say no, and I say shalom! and I narrate: follow me up the staircase.