Going Home

Going Home

I can’t wait to go home.
It’s far too quiet in this noise,
this isolating, jarring din.
Staying here, I can’t hear
anything – I am lost
beneath a cacophony
of a thousand voices
telling me who I am,
and who I am not,
where I lack and where I want.
So, I’m going home to
my Father’s arms, to the
quiet warmth that speaks.
Standing on that solid ground
beneath the fiery stars,
I’ll hear Heaven sigh.
Breathless in the cold night,
Alone but not alone.
You are who You are
And I am created:
myself
in You.