Heaven-Bound

I couldn’t get that Eastbound plane ticket, so I had to take a T-Rex instead.

I don’t recall when I first wrote this poem. I believe it may have been sometime around the fall of 2015. Despite the fact that it is certainly not new, the sentiment remains true, perhaps even more now than when I first wrote this. I am homesick for Heaven.

I’m suffocating in this small town.

These lungs weren’t meant to breathe

earth’s oxygen.

My heart is heaven-bound, 

because there I am a citizen. 

I am not home yet, 

but my heart longs to return. 

I have sojourned far too long, 

my soul breaks, my cheeks are wet

with tears, and fears are crippling my steps. 

Sell me a ticket for an Eastbound plane,

maybe somewhere on the map

there is a place that ends the pain, 

temporarily, at best;

but my heart cannot completely rest 

until it’s carried home 

and laid at the feet of the throne.