Home

What is home? A place you go or an essence you feel?

Home is where the heart is

That saying is untrue.

Home is wherever loving arms openly embrace you.

Home is where those loving arms gently guide you in.

Warming the chilled frost of your hands although you’re full of sin.

Wait too long in that embrace and I over hear.

Those arms of love have turned to hate and dangers very near.

Decide to hide or to abide

You’ve heard them plan out your demise.

Poetry excerpt from my book titled: From My Journal Notes: All of that was for this.