When Will We Go Home? Poem by Mark Heathcote

When will we go home?
There are leafy avenues and vistas I want to see.
There are winding rivers I want to follow.
There are lakes I want to swim across.
And mountains I want to climb.

When will we go home?
There are wildflower meadows I want to explore.
There are forests still not trodden, mysterious
There are caves in the earth yawning for echoes'
There are deserts, yet a cactus hasn't been glowing.

When will we go home?
What are we missing that we should leave?
Departing now will give you pangs, like an absence.
Like a tree without leaves
You will be rooted but without fruits or flowers.