Poem January 25, 1988 Issue

Homecoming

Gwendolyn Joy Reges

There was a time when my world
was rather swinish.
I thought I was having what's known as
a "good time."
Still, there were days I felt empty,
hollow inside, like I was starving.

Something, someone, some One
kept calling, saying my name;
not my name really, but Beloved,
Child of God,
and I knew I had to try to find the way back.

We've all come home—
some of us more than once—
with eyes downcast, afraid
to see if we're still the loved
we once had been.

For each step of mine
You run toward me with ten.
When we meet
the embrace of Love seems to say
I'm alive again;
I am found.
And I know that I am
home
free.

Gwendolyn Joy Reges

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