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Rated: E · Poetry · Inspirational · #2195532
The truest way to Home is to rest one's entire existence into the arms of the Creator.
My days on Earth are missing Home with many houses known.
"My flesh and my heart may fail," repine for a lasting place to be.
I've lived in Oklahoma, New York, Alabama, Tennessee, Georgia, Florida,
and Texas as many bolo ties, I've donned,
but never have the houses, addresses, climes or spaces sufficed for Home at all.

Residences on Earth are merely sleeper cars on the train of Life,
that billows its fumes through the tracks of myriad stars
on its way to that Final Station, called, "Eternity."
"but God is the strength of my heart"
through the days of this wandering sojourn.

As the Levites of old, who had no land in Israel
The Lord has become "my portion forever," too.
The title of my first book is The Quest for Home,
and this has always been my search.
Home is not a place on Earth, but the rest I find in God (Hebrews 4:9)

I've looked to entertainment like humans often do, but home is not there.
I've looked to quiet moments in the woods, but home is not there.
I've looked for peace in a cup of tea, but home is not there.
When I look for Home, anywhere, but in The Lord Himself, that is never found.
But when I find satisfaction in The One, Who made me, I rest at Home.


Word Count: 227
Line Count: 20
The verse used and the prompt are one and the same. Psalm 73:26

by Jay O'Toole
on July 11th, 2019


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