Standing on the Heights of Things

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Standing on the heights of things,

Wrapt in beauty so profound,

Peace and wholeness dwell unscathed,

In this land I once was from.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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Now I’m forever losing someone,

Loved ones near or far away,

Family chords caught over oceans, 

Bending, breaking, lost at sea.

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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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