Beckoning

Come home.

They won’t be there for you,

But I will be, and

I’m good for the soul.

Come home because the crystal-soft clouds

Hover above the mountains

Blanketed with hushed snow

And the sinking sun tosses it all

In rose-white and grey.

Come home because I will be there

to stitch up your heart

After they cut open your body.

I will stay with you so you’re not alone.

Come home because as the glowing clouds drift across the

Last bit of daylight sky, they leave behind the blue and white,

The first touches of dusk spread across the windswept snow

And it’s then we’re all grateful to have our orange-bathed hearths.

Come home with peace.

Come with a love deeper than you’d ever known leaving.

Come wrapped in the arms of Christ and

Come in faith that you’ve never left them.

Come because you have to.

Come under the knife and the needle;

Walk brave through the fire;

Serve God, and mend.

Come with your heart full of their tears

And their wrinkles and their child’s faith.

Come with their fire to warm the cold people of the North.

Come in faith that you’ve never left them.

Come home.