Whispers of Home

 

Whispers of Home

My heart often whispers of going home,
Yet I don’t know where the door may be.
The streets are shadows, empty stone,
No light to guide, no family tree.

The place I knew does not remain,
Its warmth has drifted far from me.
Only echoes of love, and traces of pain,
Float like dust where I used to be.

There is no grandma by the fire,
Her gentle hands no longer near.
She has given her love to another choir,
And left me here with silence and fear.

The chair she sat in feels so cold,
The laughter gone, the comfort thin.
Stories once golden, now untold,
A hollow shell of what had been.

I wander rooms that do not speak,
Their walls are strangers, hard and gray.
My soul feels fragile, small, and weak,
As memories slip and fade away.

God, my heart is crying loud,
It longs for rest, it longs for You.
Among the lost and restless crowd,
I need a place that feels like true.

I do not ask for golden halls,
Nor palaces with endless flame.
Only a home where spirit calls,
A refuge that whispers my name.

Lord, open doors I cannot see,
A house not built of stone or wood.
A dwelling made eternally,
Where every sorrow turns to good.

Your home, O Lord, my soul desires,
A shelter where no night will fall.
Where hearts are warmed by endless fires,
And love is written on each wall.

I’ve lost the maps of earthly land,
But heaven’s path lies in Your hand.
When all I knew has turned to sand,
I’ll walk with You where I can stand.

Let angels sing me toward Your gate,
And guide my weary steps inside.
For only You can recreate
The home for which my tears have cried.

The door is narrow, yet it shines,
A light that calls me from the deep.
Beyond it, endless peace aligns,
And every wound is healed in sleep.

So take me home, O Lord, I pray,
Not to the house I’ve lost below.
But to Your dwelling, far away,
The truest home I’ll ever know.