I come home,
the sun is low
and you stand there
as beautiful as ever
in the doorway
to our home
Fields of gold
glistening in the setting sun.
My steps are light,
my heart is whole.
Son, why are you running?
I throw up my arms.
He jumps up high.
And you, beauty.
Braided hair and homely dress,
your eyes glow brighter
than the fiery dawn.
Peace falls upon the earth,
the hearty soil,
thick with mud,
full of life.
As our door shuts
out the world we know,
and opens the chambers
of our hearts
so do we
come home.
Photo by Scott Webb: https://www.pexels.com/photo/white-and-red-wooden-house-with-fence-1029599/
Leave a Reply