The Journey Home

The dogs will wake you

in what seems like night

Hungry for the first light

It starts off simple, the great architect

then woman, for the man

thoughts of love come not far when he is

who he is

and so there he stood on the wall between night and day

and he held a plumbline

and asked what I saw

and from somewhere a song of trust

sung low as the first pierce the dark

the dogs going quiet

with birdsong

and faith becomes the song that the bird sings

when the dawn is still dark

and like a wave of soft blue light

turn night

into brandendburg gate

flood leaves

and blades

Eros, erobus , dark winged

Into this world, thrown

all seems clear to me

the east and west ,

the north, and south.

I am home