A Calling Home
A Calling Home…
Home
A word which can express so much.
That opens a doorway and meanders
Through many avenues, streets, countries and continents
That has endless amounts of weights being held
Home can be physical, it can be four walls and a roof.
It can be our family and friends close and afar
It can also be a destination which is yet known but felt
Perhaps simply where we have come from, spending a whole life returning
A quiet yearning pulls us all in the direction of Home
Perhaps often we aren’t aware of this compass needle
The one that whispers beneath the noise
Reminding us we are at times lost and forgetting
That something, somewhere and somehow chose for us to be here
A incalculable and incomprehensible phenomena to simply incarnate
Yet along the way losing sight of direction becomes lethargic
Of the miracle constantly in front of us, guiding gently our Way
Through blind fate, across passages of time
We are beckoned to come home once more
Going beyond what we thought we once knew
To find behind something that cant be unknown
A place sweetly familiar
A language without words
A longing so far away yet in the palm of hands
amidst a Silence which penetrates every sound
Home is unique to all of us
Returning to the all encompassing
Shelter however is a journey shared
Walking one another back into The Doors of Self.
Through Tea we can all quietly take each step
At our own pace, there is no right or wrong
Blooming in different seasons without pressure
As kettles boil, tea steeps,
Familiarity faintly on the Horizon.
