Lost Home

There is a saying, many ways that lead to Rome But I can’t even find a decent map It’s like standing lost and blind in the woods Sticking out my hands in hopes of grabbing a branch When I grab that branch, I hang on to it for life But the branch snaps, leaving me empty again Trying to focus on a shimmering light in the far distance Not sure it’s something, I walk to it frantically Don’t want to be in these woods alone any longer I start walking fast, falling, get up and run faster When I come closer, there is a small inviting cabin With a light, a warmth, a smell that feels like home