Going Home Poem by Charlotte Rains

There's a subtle sound falling on my ears;

I feel it's breath as it speaks.

It comes from the wind that blows through the trees,

and the ripples and waves of the creeks.

It's in the raindrops, in each leaf that falls,

in the flowers, and dew of the 'morn.

It's in the bird's wings, and the rays of the sun;

it's in each new babe that is born.

It beckons me, "Come! " It's calling my name;

it's voice so tender and sweet.

"Come home, " it whispers, "I'm waiting for you.

There's others I want you to meet."

My time is near, my race, I have run.

There's no sorrow, no regrets in my heart.

Just memories of life; some laughter, some tears,

I'll take with me, when once I depart.