Homecoming
Call me a homing pigeon
And I’ll tell you why:
No matter how far I go,
There’s something deep inside
That always calls me home.
Or maybe, I’m a baby bird:
The day could be so long-
But I’ll still need to be well fed
With Mama’s food and song.
Sometimes, I’m like a butterfly
With quiet inner power;
But even I can’t explain why
I’ll always be drawn to the flower.
…Or maybe, I’m just a Christian
Who means well deep at heart,
But finds many things keeping
My God and I apart.
But when my way is most dark:
Like the butterfly, bird and pigeon,
The thing I can’t explain:
Is that which calls me back.
And I’ll tell you why:
No matter how far I go,
There’s something deep inside
That always calls me home.
Or maybe, I’m a baby bird:
The day could be so long-
But I’ll still need to be well fed
With Mama’s food and song.
Sometimes, I’m like a butterfly
With quiet inner power;
But even I can’t explain why
I’ll always be drawn to the flower.
…Or maybe, I’m just a Christian
Who means well deep at heart,
But finds many things keeping
My God and I apart.
But when my way is most dark:
Like the butterfly, bird and pigeon,
The thing I can’t explain:
Is that which calls me back.
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