I’ve never really felt at home anywhere (except close to nature, out on the prairie). 

I found something I had written in feb. 2004. 


Under the sparkling smile of a light-hearted moon while Earth wears her garment of diamond dust white and snow swirls dance around trees in comely curls, Night bids me: “Stay” and beckons my heart to abide. 

But I plod on, my face buried deep in this scarf, hiding from the icy, biting wind. 

Safeguarding the night from his fence post tower a snow owl sentinel softly, silently, surveys my passing then spreads and dips and rises soundlessly away. Still and Calm call out to me: “Tarry this night with us. ”

But I trudge on, my toes, numb in boots the squeak over the friged white ground. 

Privledged, my soul, alone in the freedom of this night feels peace and infinite grace pour down on me from forever overhead. A single Star falls from the blue black vault of Heaven and summons me: “Make your sincerest wish be known. ”

But I only say, “I long for Home.”



2 responses to “Home

  1. What a beautiful piece of writing.
    Thank you for sharing it.

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