Prodigality Read Count : 13

Category : Poems

Sub Category : N/A

The prodigal son stands

At the edge of his father’s house

In the distance his father is waiting 

Arms wide open 

Waiting to welcome his son home.


They’ve been here before 

The son, broken, bruised, scarred.

His father, open, loving, forgiving.

And each time

The son ends up where he started

With no idea how he got there 


Each time he wants to stay

The world calls him back.

He tries to forget all he saw

But how do you forget 

What’s been engraved in your consciousness? 


The prodigal son returns home

for the thousandth time 

But he’s not sure he’s really here.



Comments

  • Maurice  Beres

    Maurice Beres

    Very powerful 🦋beautifully written 🦋🦋🦋🦋

    Oct 27, 2019

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