From where I am, I see
Him standing, in the distance
Never once leaving
His worried counternance as
He gazes out anxiously
Till suddenly face lit, and
His eyes shone with recognition
As the sight of me compels
His rushing down towards
Arms outstretched, welcoming
Finally home and safe, in
His sweet, comforting embrace
That nothing matters anymore except
The knowledge that I am home
And home I will be always.
Filed under emotions, faith, family, feelings, friends, God, love, poetry, style, trust, writing
“Prodigal” was originally written ten years ago. On a recent revisit back to 小小的太阳 I realised the beginning scenes depicted exactly what I had in mind.. how uncanny. The prose was edited to give it a more crisp tone and then presented to several close friends as parting gifts.
The mug warm in his hands
He raised it and drank –
A mouth of the dark brew
Lifting his eyes in a glance
The trees bare and laden white –
Not a sight of warmth
But I’ll have to get going yet.
Looked down to the table –
Lit cigarette wasting, sandwich half-eaten
Fingering the ticket lovingly
For just a moment, a hesitation.
Breaking off, he pulled up the collar
Picked up his bag and stood at the door
Stepping off the ledge, he never turned back
On the journey back, home.