The Way Home

In the darkness the first time thunder is heard

we feels the booms resonate their dread

and cry because no arms shelter

from the sounds or its echoes.

 

How easily we fall into the cell

where tremors from the storms

soon overpower the soul,

lost is the remembered touch,

the soft, soothing caresses in care

unto the roar that stalks like a lion.

 

Inward grows the hunger

to cease any noises that inspire terror,

hands discover grasps to clutch

at anything to muffle those reverberations.

 

Quickly the day finds a path

into a maze of howling phantoms

always driven to discover

some way no matter how drastic

just to avoid that worry

even hording what will buffer

from the peril

despite the times it is taken from other.

 

Then on that wayward odyssey

finally finding an altar

where someone sacrifice

for the sake of another.

 

Inside is awakened the remembrance

of how once care was a shield,

in that awareness come the renewal

so eyes once more see beyond themselves.

 

Finally finding that door home

where love waits by the Lord’s hands

who heals the vision, heart and mind

until within is felt the harmony

at last able to embrace the simple joy,

which savors the sound of ones own heart beat

as something truly beautiful

happily seeing the same in others.