The Road Home

A long time ago
     I did learn a song.
About a country road
     that takes me where I belong.
The place was called home,
     nowhere else is the same.
The place I grew up,
     everyone knew my name.

Down that old country road
     I traveled today.
To see if some things
     had stayed the same way.
There were signs of change,
     some familiar too.
As I drove through the town
     and checked out the view.

The place I last lived,
     it looked much the same.
But the people who live there
     have a much different name.
The white picket fence
     wasn’t white anymore.
And the mail no longer comes
     inside the front door.

I stopped by the library
     to drop off a book.
It was one place
     with a familiar look.
The DQ is gone
     but that is okay.
I had a great lunch
     at the newer Subway!

As I drove out of town,
     I didn’t look back.
There was nothing for me,
     it had nothing I lack.
It was a nice visit,
     to go back in time.
While it is home to some,
     it is no longer mine.

Home is where the heart is,
     someone once wrote.
So my country road song
     now has a new note.
I no longer live
     in the place I once did.
I’m not sure I lived then,
     or if I just hid.

So my journey today
     did bring me much joy.
As I saw what I was,
     I’m no longer that boy.
I have been changed,
     I don’t need to hide.
God’s leading the journey,
     I’m along for the ride!

© 2015 by Tom Lemler

I delivered some copies of the books I have written to the library in my hometown today. There were changes in the small town, yet some things looked very much the same as when I lived there. As I was cleaning the church building tonight, this poem showed up in my mind and wouldn’t leave until I stopped what I was doing and typed it out. I pray that it is an encouragement to you as you walk with God to your eternal home! 

In prayer,

2 thoughts on “The Road Home

  1. Interesting, I remember the first time returning home. Things seemed smaller. The neighborhood that seemed immense before I left now seemed miniaturized. My parent’s home and yard that I thought was so large was now so tiny. People went about their business or rather their busy-ness and I was “maybe in the way.” We learn about the lessons of the return of the prodigal son and his brother. How each one felt, what each one learned and what WE learned from the story. When Jesus returned home, he tried to tell them about his “changes” about who he was now, but the people only remembered him as “only the carpenter’s son.” He could not get through to them, heal them, help them. To them he was no different than the child they always new him as in his youth. It is always interesting, “this going home thing!!”

    • Thank you for taking the time to read my poem and for your comments and perspective. You are right, “this going home thing” often carries some interesting dynamics with it! 🙂

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