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There's no home here
And yet we seek one
'Til our last breath
As if there were a here,
As if home was a gift
Christmas under the tree,
Untying every candy-colored
bow
Tearing off every shiny-folded
wrapping
And lifting every 'this-has-gotta-be-it'
lid,
Only to find
Time and again
Corner to corner
Side to side
And all around...
Empty, empty, empty...echoes:
There's no home here.
John 14:2-3
John 14:23 |
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