Finding Home in a World of Displacement

In the bleak night of universal displacement,

the coyotes moaned and yelped

as I, unable to sleep, considered our divided histories;

histories of moons waning and moons waxing,

and still, I struggled to find my home.

Despite our mutual suspicions,

I wondered how it might be to befriend and tame the distant howlers.

Knowing better, I struggled instead to sleep, but ravens,

on dream-carved wings, swept me up and carried me away.

Following coyote tracks, they flew me through tunneling canyons,

and antiquated coliseums, beyond Eden’s gates until we arrived at an expanse

of thornless flora, feathery fauna, and enduring peace.

There in the center, rooted in truth, The Tree of Life: God's Mercy Tree grew,

its fruit free for life-long thriving: Home; where coyotes frolicked like puppies,

raised their noses, flared their nostrils, and sniffed sage perfumes, blackberry marrow

and lapped at rosemary aperitifs.

How had I wandered so far?

In the currency of dreams, I saw the Liar –

aroused by purity, driven by greed, distorted by pride, tainted by envy –

slip his tongue into the world’s fertile mouth and

plant The Grave Deception.

My mind bulged on one shore,

my belly begged on another.

In the sacred hollow between,

Jesus, the Triune Eternal Oneness, stood, arms extended,

welcoming all men and all women and,

most shocking of all,

me.

“Come home, dear children, come home.

Receive back your hearts and come home,” He said.

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