Poetry

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THE ROAD HOME


By Stephen R. Jordan



Almost allowed to be through with us,

And separated from then and now.

Mirrors appear from most everywhere,

And the fortunate ones finally see how.


Making it back is a hard road to traverse,

Yet not near as long as it took to arrive.

Trudging but one small step at a time,

May be the only way one is able to survive.


As the journey back takes us forward,

And precious time continues to press on.

The steps we take do become larger,

As we begin to see the faint light of dawn.


I imagine only those who have been there,

Would know of what road I dare speak.

A road that is filled thick with travelers,

Until once the road reaches its highest peak.





You may think you travel this road alone,

Except if you were to face back around.

Only then will you begin to finally realize,

Many took the same road you were bound.



All this time you believed you were one,

And now you find there are many.

Take comfort that you are on your way home,

And you stopped to pick up that penny.



THE END

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