Prodigal Heart

A poem I wrote a while back. I feel led to share it.

Your inheritance

Is a thing of the past.

All of it spent

On nothing that lasts.

The breasts of a cheap whore,

The buzz of strong wine,

Don’t give satisfaction,

And take it with time.

Prodigal heart,

When will you come home?

You’ve been running so long,

And you feel so alone.

When your money ran out,

Your friends all did too.

You wake up alone,

No one’s sleeping with you.

If you’d rise from your pillow,

Give the mirror a glance,

You’d see a stranger staring right back.

Prodigal heart,

Is it time to come home?

You’ve been running so long,

And you feel so alone.

You feed the pigs

‘Cause you’re to proud to beg,

You pass over grace,

And choose slop instead.

Each night in the mire,

You spend with the sows,

Births longings for heaven

From deep in your hell.

Prodigal heart,

Why won’t you come home?

You’ve been running so long,

And you feel so alone.

Often at night,

You can’t get to sleep,

You spend the time wondering,

“Can I be redeemed?”

When rest finally claims you,

You toss through the night,

Dreaming of life,

That has been made right.

Prodigal heart,

It’s time to come home,

You’ve been running so long,

And you feel so alone.

Your feet hit the road

That you’ve traveled before,

But only this time,

It’s taking you home.

Prodigal heart,

Can it be true?

Your Father’s not waiting,

He’s running for you.