Poem October 31, 1988 Issue

Homecoming

Patricia P. Wilson

When lost is found
and dead are raised
do we rejoice and sing?
Salvation's certainty
proclaim? Bring forth
robe, shoes, and ring?

Or do we stand in
nearby field with
scorn and scowl, bemoaning
the lost restored,
the sinner healed,
the wayward one's atoning?

From field or far
must each one come,
forsake false pride, repent.
In Father's house
with joy we find
inheritance unspent—

All that He has, ours!

Patricia P. Wilson

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