What I Call Home


Outside these walls of foreign confinement
A war rages on in the night;
And I long to touch it,
To make it right.

Outside these walls, I know there's a world
I have yet but to see;
So I write in much earnestness of a life like that-
Of all the things that are yet to be.

Though what to be is what I long for,
Still what is remains;
I hear it now, the Everlasting Roar,
Rise up within my veins.

A song and a sermon You give to me,
And make it still Your own;
A light and a life somehow to be-
You are what I call home.

A time and a place I know to be
One life, one purpose, one hope.
And I pray the faith for a life lived free,
To see,
To live,
To know.

Poem Rating:
Click To Rate This Poem!

Continue Rating Poems


Share This Poem