It’s time to Return again.
We’ve spent the Inheritance that was
Wasted on lavish, extravagant dregs
That caused us to forget our Name.
The Homeward Journey
To defeat the monster inside must begin
Or else we will only return half-hearted
This is the greatest tragedy that could
Occur within you.
The Author, the Fisherman, the Composer
Is Calling us Home
We must bleed for it, beat for it
Until it is all we know.
They tell me I hope for a lot
But I cannot help but listen for the music
That calls me out of the grave
That I dug for myself.
Your eyes have only to look
Upon the horizon
As He picks up his tunic
To chase after His Beloved
He doesn’t wait on the front porch
To Call your name once more.
All of me,
The Prodigal Poet