Poem: Home-sick for Heaven

A pilgrim in an alien world
Constantly seeking intervention from my Lord
By nothing consoled in this raided place
Like the small picture of home that lingers before my face.

You wonder if I’m weary by the strain of my yearning;
Or is my spirit breaking at the stretch of watching?
Longing to be caught up from the snares and cares of this earth;
Desperate for deliverance from this conflicting body of death?

All thanks to the communion of The Comforter
Without which I could have wasted like a fish out of water;
As I daily subdue my carnal body on the altar of prayer
My spirit rekindles with joy of the Holy Ghost’s fire.

If I will I can from earthly toil and care withdraw
To this heavenly blessedness for strength to endure;
Enriching my hope in the assurance of His Word
Blessing my soul with pregnant chants of ‘Jesus my lord!’

Ever in His presence; I feel content and blest,
It’s no lesser place than the very ‘Haven of rest’;
Once more embraced in His gentle arms of love,
Re-inspiring my hopes of spending eternity above.

© 2001, Tee Akindele