| No sapphire halls or fountain falls.
No gilded spires tower
above grand balconies.
No coat of arms or court of lords
to pledge me fealty
beneath the hallowed dome.
No life of easy privilege,
but I am coming home.
Behind me traipse the mountainscapes
of marbled porcelain
reaching for purest skies.
Below me warm valleys exude
new verdancy of life
from root to honeycomb.
I’ve tasted the fruits of beauty,
but I am coming home.
Distantly plume the nebulae
trotting out cosmic seed
to birth the galaxies.
In cold vacuum the hot suns bloom
near trollish sucking wells
bewitching those who roam.
I’ve trekked beyond the white dwarf’s worlds,
but I am coming home.
A promise made that will not fade –
a pledge, tapping power
within the Infinite,
fused in this band, cupped in your hand.
Bright tears wash up to kiss
like the sweet ocean’s foam.
I breathe the vision of our joy
for we are coming home.
Being in love and relating in love
commences the sublime.
Being in grace and relating in grace
fellowships the Divine.
So being in Christ and relating in Christ
capstones the true design.
And we are home – coming together
for the very first time.
©2002 Carl Pecinovsky
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Words