Homesick

Homesick

lonely days spent in the hills,

remembered with fondness,

focusing on priorities took less work,

feeling muscles ache,

and the mind tired at the end of the day,

from contemplating God's designs,

not questioning,

or thinking small,

akin to the way politicians,

and city folk do,

thinking only of themselves and how they are affected,

worrying about others instead of themselves,

good works done,

to avoid looking into the soul,

and to soften the morning ritual of looking in the mirror,

in the hills there are no crutches,

no other lives to perfect,

alone and in God's naked view,

the same as it shall be the day I die,

uncomfortable and liberating at the same time,

with nowhere to hide,

in the hills,

contemplating God's designs.







Douglas Polk