Coming home from the cabin,
Blessed cabin in the mountains
Where time stands still.
Nothing matters but being
In the moment.
Being.
Being.
Being . . .
The journey home,
Where everything matters,
When doing demands the thoughts,
Forget not the cabin,
And, the promise
Of life and love
Everlasting.
The present is illusion.
The eternal lives
In the cabin.
This was lovely...sometimes we need to escape from the daily grind to find ourselves...our being!
ReplyDeleteThanks so much, Aditi!
DeleteLove and blessings!
Absolutely beautiful! This speaks to me on a deeper level and in a completely different way than what you meant. ...thus the beauty of poetry? A dear, sweet, elderly friend friend of mine--a saint--passed from this life to life in heaven Saturday evening. Now that's what I call going home!
ReplyDeleteLove and blessings,
Thank you so much, Kim! I'm touched to know this spoke to you on a deeper level; yes, that's what poetry should do! :)
DeleteAnd, I pray your sweet friend is at home with the Lord in peace and joy.
Love and blessings!