I hear your voice Soft, tender, strong— Its resonance cuts through mist and fog And even though my eyes are clouded, Covered, misted, hidden from light, My heart can see, My heart can hear, My heart can feel where you are. Confusion lies behind tired eyes And occupies real estate in my mind, But You take my hand and we walk Beside still, clear waters Where I begin to see. And you kindle a fire That is warmer, lighter, and brighter Than the cold on my hands, my arms, and my face; And I begin to feel. I have been complicit in self-hatred, But You... You draw me into safety And call me out of this miry, Stinking, sinking pit of clay And the person who is not me Whom I have harboured in the dark spaces Of my mind, Relinquishes control At the sound of Your voice— And I begin to hear. Hope and life are together woven Untethered, untamed, and wild. Your garden's growing in deeper places From nutritious, rich, receptive soil. And amidst the perfumes of gardenia and jasmine, I meet with You— Face to face, Defences abandoned, And there I rest in Your embrace Where I am home.
Where I Am Home.
