Returning home
The blinding light,
The absence of night.
Colours I've never in my life seen,
Coming from an open door.
I think to myself, ' have I been here before?'
The chirping birds,
I somehow understand their words.
Figures materialize in front of me.
One. Two. Three. Now four.
Have I ever been here before?
I look at each familiar face,
But then they merge so that another figure takes their place.
Wonder and curiosity, layered with confusion,
Cause me to ask myself once more;
'Have I ever been here before?'
A feeling so warm
Emanates from the shimmering form.
I look closely at His face
And now I am sure.
I have, indeed, been here before.
