clarakatalin

A place where you can hang your hat,
And say “Good morning” to your cat,
To drink your coffee in pajamas,
Or raise a herd of lovely llamas.

A place where you can be a king,
Or queen, if that’s your hankering.
A place where you can be a fool,
Or spend some time beside the pool.

A place where you can get some rest,
A place to be your very best.
A place where you’re so much encouraged,
A place where you can freely flourish.

A place of many smells and voices,
A place where you have made some choices.
A place where people tend to greet you,
And say that they are glad to see you.

Or maybe you can be your worst;
Growl at the dog, and sadly, curse.
You wake up grumpy; you’re a bear,
But still the people love you there.

You say, it’s not at all like that?
Your home, does it these senses lack?
No domicile is truly perfect;
In fact, at home, you feel a reject.

Our real home’s in heaven above,
A place of everlasting love.
And there, you’ll meet with all your dreams,
You’ll live by living, flowing streams.

God has for you a mansion great,
With rooms that for your soul await.
And good or bad, your home on earth?
For that new home, to wait it’s worth.