Many Roads Poem by David Harris

With the many roads we travel
somehow we always know
the road home is waiting
with a warming glow,
a comfy chair to rest our bones,
a partner with a large smile
to remind us if we think
of wandering to pastures new.
The home we have
with its warming glow.
We at times might get bored
wanting to seek something new,
forgetting momentarily
we have of stable continuity.
Then we remember all the things
we have before closing the door.


22 February 2015