Standing on the Heights of Things


Standing on the heights of things,

Wrapt in beauty so profound,

Peace and wholeness dwell unscathed,

In this land I once was from.


But mixed now is my every thought, 

Haunted, guilty, angry, sad,

For I have gone beyond this grace,

and lived and breathed in other lands.


Lands who live on your loose change

Scant enough to stretch across,

The gaping chasm of need and pain,

The open wound of want and loss.


I have one foot here and one foot there, 

Half a heart all stretched and gaunt,

Longing for home where peace is found,

But loving these small ones in want.


When I left all young with hope

I did not see and did not know,

The cost of stretching far and wide,

The pain of living, letting go.


Now I’m forever losing someone,

Loved ones near or far away,

Family chords caught over oceans, 

Bending, breaking, lost at sea.


Standing on the heights of things,

Wrapped in wordless grief profound,

God lead me to the end of loss,

To the home where peace is found.


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