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If home is where the heart is,
Then my heart is hard-hewed
On heaven's stone
Where golden streets
Are no longer a concept
And valuable gold
Is merely just pavement

Home is where I don't try to fit in
Because I just naturally do
The spirit part of me
Hems itself to the whole like
It was a missing piece-
A prodigal returned

At home I belong
I am held in hugs of comfort
Where rest is not
A figment of my imagination
Where peace rests
In my soul

When I go home,
I'll finally bury
The futures of
Past versions of me
Because bad habits now
Only habitate in Hades

Home is my triumph
Home is my glory

Lord, lead me home
When I won't have to think
I'll just know
That I'm home.

Poet's note: This poem is about my eternal home- heaven. I pondered on what it would feel like and I quickly felt what it would NOT feel like- which is often times how I've felt here in this physical earth.