Prodigal
by Miesen
For longer than memory remembers,
for so very long,
we prodigals have wandered far from our Father’s home
squandering our inheritance as we went.
In a foreign land, alone, broken, and hungry,
our tears fall in silence,
a confluence of anger, remorse, and doubt.
We have heard talk of a star coming.
They say, “Wish on that star
and your dreams will come true.”
In the currency of dreams,
even the pauper may count himself rich.
Still his belly would be empty!
Oh to feast on uncertainty.
Wake me from my nightmare. I wish no
more to sleep!
Call me into the Son Shine.
The wolves are at my heels. I am in need of shelter.
“Good Shepherd gather Your sheep.”
I will heal in the assurance that love and peace are real;
I have lived so long without these,
for all I’ve known is fear.
Unlock joy’s storehouse. You who has the key.
I have not Your riches; I only have the need.
A broken part, a shard am I.
In mercy make Your vessel whole;
I pray You, “Heal my broken life and soul.”