The road home is much more beautiful
than any road going away.
I wish far more that my method of transportation
doesn't fail me, that my arrival time
would come more quickly
and anything in my path would move aside.
There is a patient impatience about the journey,
relaxed about going home, yet wanting to be there.
As I watch people going
toward unknown destinations
it's impossible to tell who is headed home
and whose path is leading them away.
If you've ever ridden a horse goin' home
you know by the pace of his step
and the look in his eye that at the end of the trail
there was food, rest, warmth and love.
If you were to watch the pace of my step
and the gleam in my eyes you'd know I was going home.
And there was one reason that outweighed all the rest -