Homecoming

Homecoming

O ye stars, obstructed by the dust of the forsaken city I call home,
Thou who glorify in the hazy murk of the city’s nighttime,
Assured lights, mourning the fall of Hyperion, in the passing of Apollo,
Guide this traveler home with thy firm resolute lightness,
Leave him at his doorstep, where his patient roof shall obstruct ye,
Guide him, in faith and empathy, and in passing kindness,
Guide him, for in his universe, all need guidance.

Behold his homecoming, his lonely welcome,
Witness thy reflections, on the water that washes his face,
Penetrate with light and heat into his abode,
Loosen his sinews for sleep, which had tightened in long chase,
Heal his wounds and lighten his just load,
Show injustice in kindness, show mercy twice blessed,
And tell thy Neighbour to awake from His slumber.

He is far from home yet, with pinpricked feet,
The life he walks on is a bed of thorns anyways,
A tightrope of tension that pulls this universe onwards,
Show him the truth he prays for, show him nought,
Show him nought but the target of his prayers,
Show him nought but the truth absent in his presence,
Guide him, for at times, his faith is blended in ignorance.

Witness his entry, under a roof that seems alienated,
Into a universe that connects barely deep within,
Deep within him reveal your pretence that he has suspected,
Fold the bed sheets of his mind for him, and disturb him,
For he yearns to have dreams when usually he sleeps deeply,
Reveal his old envy for light sleepers, yet unfold it tenderly,
For he is in guilt, that he sleeps deeply in such a world.

And when all is done and over, tell him when the end is, if any at all,
Tell it late, after the end, so that he may rejoice in untimely revelations,
Give not regard to his biting sarcasm, it is one face of a stained coin,
And warm his bed with the fairest of thy stars, fair though thou all art,
For he will not touch them, yet needs the warmth dearly,
And as his heart has turned to ice, stubborn to love and pain.

Yet he is still far from home, under dark skies and lonely raindrops,
He falls apart from others though he comes from the same cloud,
And when he lands in dust, he shall be a part of the same pools,
When next he leaves his home he will have forgotten the stars,
Who refuse to fall and shower down to form pools and shallows,
What twinkle and what wink shalt thou give him then,
As he moves with a delirious globe, awaiting His homecoming?