Home

The whoosh of the winter wind

Sends a creak through the trees

And the bow of the gnarled limbs

Sends a shiver through me.

And the crunch of the white velvet snow

Echoes about the lonesome woods

As I whisper a prayer for the safety of home

And the comfort of all I find good.

In response comes the hoot of the wisest fowl

As a beacon to shew the path

And I silently thank the kindly owl

For correcting my foolish gaffe.

Now I hear the guffaw of my kin

And I know that I am here

Yet I pause to stare within

At all those that I call dear.

For even though I'm no longer lost

I savor this moment to know

That even through the journey's cost

I may always return to my home.