Dear Pastor, When) I(Came Home Poem by James McLain

We have been separated now for three years
you from me myself from my wife.
It is hard to talk of love when others hide behind
other things I cannot.
It is my daughter I miss kisses never given eyes
orbs bright veiled moon sleeps bright sun peeps.
People expect things I cannot give things some
never had having had them I always will.
People expect miraculous visions one I had the
future of others that would them come to pass
and they did.
Pastor thank God for taking this sight from my
grasp as I was unworthy to hold it for as long
as I did.
My mind now begins to dim people read what
is not there I cannot say what they mean lost
in your though I would yet stay for your smile.