For you, the one who longs for a home beyond this plane of reality, searching wholeheartedly for a hope beyond this.
Every morning, the very moment my eyes start to settle,
To the bright light which slips through my ruffled curtains,
I stare into the fading grey, and pray to test my mettle,
I wish to find a haven, to set my heart to be so certain.
The grind begins and I take a whiff of the breakfast air,
Keeping a moment to stretch out weariness from my body,
Looking past the seconds, before routine becomes my stare,
I wonder where for certain, heaven is, beyond skies cloudy.
Is it found on distant shores, where sunsets are a dime a dozen?
Hidden beneath mystic waterfalls, beyond mystery and wonder?
Can it exist on the flimsy line dividing space and time summoned?
Or is it all within the heart, brighter than a rainbows colors?
I think of it, and it delivers me past the mundanes of my work,
And yet, I cannot seem to grasp it, through logic and certainty,
Where this haven may exist, or can it be located on this earth,
I comb each memory I've made, maybe there can I find clarity.
In surprising contrast I do find what they could call as 'heaven' here,
Within the intangible strings of reminiscent pasts I've lived,
They are as common as the sparrow, but like diamonds, dear,
All are just within our hands, and yes, we can 'heaven' give.
I found paradise within the joy, of laughter with friends and family,
Saw comfort in the embrace, of my mother, saving me from every tear,
Grand celebration, in the small moments of triumph in tasks daily,
And a home, where return is possible, a respite from all the fear.
These are the pieces, of the 'heaven' I had made on earth,
Yet, they are so pale in comparison, to Heaven which awaits,
For what can compare to perfection, to paradise beyond worth?
But, know while I am still far off, here I shall stay outside it's gates.
I count myself as blessed beyond what I deserve, more than I imagine,
As the 'heavens' He makes visible to me, are perfect for everyday,
Inching closer to the Heaven, after I've been spent by toil and passion,
I shall finally see, the miracle, of a home, where I can always stay.
YOU ARE READING
For You
PoetryFor you, my words they are to keep, For you, my dreams to fill your sleep, For you, my life in your hands, For you, my love I still stand. (Cover is self made)
