Houses I see, but they aren’t home to me.
In my mind they house another family.
Some that I visit, and in which I stay,
But to live there forever just is not my way.

I like to see them from afar,
meet them on the porch where they are,
and talk for a while, enjoy a dinner or tea,
maybe stay for the night to wake with the morn
and watch how the sun loves their home.

Oh, I love how the sun loves a home,
how it fills it with light from morning ’til night,
and how the shadows dance round in return.

But then after I see, its the road left for me;
not to stay but to wander and roam,
to be in one place and then move to another,
all the while tracking the sun.

The forest feels deep enough to let me be free,
and the sky in the desert is home.
The mossy, green knolls all laugh as they roll,
and I laugh in the joy they’ve become.

Because oh how I love,
the way the Son loves a home.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s