Home

Probably up too late tonight, and will regret this in the morning!


Home

I seek a home
not made of wood or brick,
but a place
fashioned for my very soul.
Somewhere I belong,
my name is known
and I am eagerly awaited,
not merely accepted or
assimilated into or expected.

The universe is wide and deep
and so many seem to know their place
or be able to feel their way
around.
Is this my call, my Cross,
to wander through life
longing, aching, yearning,
seeking for what will never
be mine?

Or is this pain a product
of my own making,
born of selfishness and desire,
a child to my neurosis?
I cannot tell and cannot
think.
The internal debate is only
quieted through the call
of my heart to the heavens -

"Have mercy on me, a sinner."