Treading lightly the path to enlightenment.


Is it this house?
Is it these walls?
Is it these old familiar rooms and airy halls?

The Sparrow nigh?
This Mourning Dove?
Each day some new treasure here to love?

No. It’s not of timber.
No. It’s not of stone.
It’s a warm and whole belonging.
I’m Home.

Did I choose?
Has it been known
By all the stars forever I’d call this my own?

How can it be
These ancient trees
And fragrant lawns could be all the world to me?

Here, this simple man,
In this humble glen I can
Feel Home.

Snow will fall.
Winds will blow.
I don’t claim it’s always Paradise, y’know.

Through chilling cold,
Each tempest thrown,
Through everything that cuts me to the bone,

Here, the storms may test me.
Here, no ill can best me.
The surest place I’ve ever known
Is Home.

If you’re adrift
Out on the sea
Amidst the raging storms of this mortality,

Or slashed and burned,
Or beat to hell,
Or lost to us at the bottom of your well,

If you need a rescue,
A place where you can run to,
I have a place for you,
There’s always room
At Home.

Pray for peace.


Comments on: "Home" (8)

  1. Beautifully expressed, Dear Paz! Thank you so much for sharing with us all. 💞


  2. Now, words fail me. Something else, I needed to know this day. Uncanny. your fan, Michele

    Liked by 1 person

    • Home is where you make it, Rabbit.
      The sparrow will follow you wherever you may go.

      All my best,


      Liked by 1 person

      • You are right-but I do miss views of wide expanses-and while I love all people, I wish for more solitude. Today, is a big day for our family. I do not care how things work out really, but I sure will be glad to know which direction I am heading. I will follow the sparrows, either way. x Michele

        Liked by 1 person

  3. Beautiful sentiments here, Scott, and so true. Thanks for sharing your light with us. It is needed!

    Liked by 1 person

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