Tag Archive | home

My Home

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OR

Being at home in my self

The home in which I live
Is simple and clean,
Most of the time, that is.
If you’re living at all,
You know what I mean:
There are always improvements,
Chores to be done;
Rearranging of furniture,
Fixing this thing and that one…
It seems something is always amiss!

I’ve learned to be at peace
In this home of mine.
Most of the time, that is.
If you’re being at all,
We are of one mind:
There is always new learning,
Wounds to be healed,
Discoveries of every nature,
Knowing how to love and feel;
Such is being at home like this.

CHRISTMAS ALONE

She looked out the window, at nothing in particular.

This night seemed darker than most.  It was cold and windy.

“It would have looked pretty, had there been snow,” she thought, “like a Christmas card; but it’s just dark…”

She turned from the window to stoke the fire and try to find something to eat.  Nothing sounded good.  This would be her fourth, maybe even fifth time to the cupboard.  She closed the door and walked away again.

“I wonder,” she mused,
“if anyone realizes that this is Christmas and I am alone.”  This thought made her cry.

At last, she thought of something she would like:  A cup of tea and half of a peanut butter sandwich.

The old dog roused himself from sleep at the scent of something he loved.

“Oh, you,” the woman teased, “There’s a half for you to eat.”

As she and the old dog munched the sandwich, she began to feel better.

“I’m not alone after all:  I have Austin here…and I have myself.”

She stood and looked out the window again.

A lone star hung very brightly in the sky:  The sign of promise fulfilled.

She smiled.

“Merry Christmas, Austin,” she said.
The old dog wagged his tail and panted up at her with large, happy brown eyes.

“Marry Christmas to me as well,” she chuckled.

 

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True peace comes when we can be at home with ourselves and enjoy the company.

THE HIKER

If there is one thing I’ve learned through the years, it’s that my journey is on-going.
About the time I think I have something learned and will never have to work on it again, more comes up.
Sometimes, I even think the destination is in sight; but then, the path turns and I go in a different direction for a while.
Here is a poem I wrote with this sort of journey in mind:

The hiker started up the path;
The way was quite unknown.
He had a compass and a map;
Still he seemd to be alone.

Step by step he walked along,
Breathing mountain air.
He watched the land and hummed a song;
He said a silent prayer.

On and on he walked that day,
Up one hill and down;
Through glen and vale, in sand and rock,
Till camp for night he found.

Then, in the morn, he went on,
His courage and strength renewed.
Crossing streams and hills beyond,
Until his goal he viewed.

But he would have to stop and rest;
The journey seemed so long!
Even though he’d done his best,
And benn so brave and strong.

So he slept and rose again
To face another day,
Seeking, walking around each bend;
The trek goes on that way.

Finally, at last he came
To a land so rich and fair,
He could not contain the flame
Of joy and hope felt there.

But still he had to journey on;
Two days, or three, or four.
To rest at night and rise at dawn,
To search; then walk some more.

Then, one day, he climbed a hill,
And saw with great surprise,
His destination with great thrill;
he could not believe his eyes!

This lovely place for which he strove,
It’s beauty unsurpassed.
His heart was filled with praise and love;
He had come home at last!