almost like home
almost like home home stories
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thislittlelight
thislittlelight even a tiny flame can defeat the dark
Autoplay OFF   •   a month ago
A short poem about autumn and the yearning ache in my soul.

almost like home

This earth - it smells like home. Its scent wafts up from layers of leaves

Its scent wafts up from layers of leaves baking crisp and golden in the setting sun,

baking crisp and golden in the setting sun, crackling as I walk

- and it sounds like home

as the wind rips past the remnants of autumn,

as the wind rips past the remnants of autumn, shivering on the treetops

shivering on the treetops like tattered banners on a battlefront,

like tattered banners on a battlefront, holding out against the end -

And the wind could almost

carry me home with the leaves.

I can almost see the way home,

I can almost see the way home, as the sun reaches his shining hand through the fog

as the sun reaches his shining hand through the fog and runs his shimmering fingers across the grass.

Light, through squinted eyelids,

Light, through squinted eyelids, rushes past me like the wind

rushes past me like the wind but shimmer remnants stay on my eyelashes and scatter about the sky

but shimmer remnants stay on my eyelashes and scatter about the sky and it is better to be blinded than to look away.

This earth - it feels like home,

This earth - it feels like home, But the sun is setting

But the sun is setting sooner today than the day before.

So I'll face the wind and find warmth in the day's dying embers,

So I'll face the wind and find warmth in the day's dying embers, and maybe tomorrow I'll be home.

and maybe tomorrow I'll be home.

Thank you for reading! Nature is so beautiful it often stirs up a longing ache for something I can't easily express. Anybody relate? Please share your thoughts in the comments! (More thoughts on next slide for those who are interested)

I personally believe the earth feels like home because it resembles the perfect earth that God first created and will one day recreate. I ache because I glimpse it but I'm not there yet. And I ache when the decay, the dying, and the dark reminds me I'm not there yet. But even this decay - just like the autumn leaves and setting sun - whispers of new life to come.

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