What is My Home?

RITA BERMAN

What is my home?
Is it a place of walls,
Constricted, spare,
With beings driv'n as thralls
Existing there?
Or is it the haven of good
O'er which Love's angels brood?

Where is my home?
Is it where sadness dwells,
And anger, pain;
Where fears creep in, recede,
Then lurk again?
Or is it Mind's shelter sweet,
In which Love's ideas meet?

What is my home?
Is it a narrow space,
O'ercrowded, poor,
Of fitful gain or lack,
With naught that's sure?
Or is it where Love divine
Saith: All I have is thine?

There is my home.
I will move out of these
Dark halls of sense,
where hearts are lone, and toil
Lacks recompense.
God giveth me joyous lease
Of all His realm of peace!

Therein I live!
In thoughts of God alone,
With bounty shed,
By His unerring will
Tenderly led.
In Him is my strength, my rest,
His work in me is blest.