What
I am prompted to wonder 
Solaces the dry places in my heart

I remember saying to Woody
Just last night
“Isn’t it wonderful when your favorite place in the world is your own home?”

So there’s that.
But then there is
Of course
Woody himself
Who tends my heart
As carefully as he tends
The rest of his garden

And there are my choir of women
Friends near and far
Who sing in harmony with my heart

Children and grandchildren
Neighbors and friends
(Even Facebook friends)
Poetry and novels
Crocheting and writing
Planning trips
Taking trips
Remembering trips
Contemplation and prayer
Quiet times with Mom
Arrogant cats and bouncy dogs
Water and mountains
Blue skies and storms
Sunrises and sunsets

It is much easier to answer
What disturbs my heart

War and pestilence
Power-hungry politicians and pompous priests 
Regretting too much
Fearing too much
Hurting too much
Forgetting metanoia
That glorious turning around
Away from should and can’t
Towards don’t have to and enough