When he had spent everything, a severe famine took place throughout that country, and he began to be in need. So he went and hired himself out to one of the citizens of that country, who sent him to his fields to feed the pigs. He would gladly have filled himself with the pods that the pigs were eating; and no one gave him anything. But when he came to himself he said, ‘How many of my father’s hired hands have bread enough and to spare, but here I am dying of hunger! I will get up and go to my father, and I will say to him, “Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you; I am no longer worthy to be called your son; treat me like one of your hired hands.” ’
Lost
Alone
Desolate
Grieving
Not even a guest
at someone else’s table
the prodigal saw
in his rear view mirror
all that he’d left behind
and longed to return
not to the place he’d occupied
as a feckless younger son
but to a more humble
place of acceptance
that he might inhabit
with all that he’d learned
in the exile of his own making
And I wonder
once he got there
how often he yearned
to be back with the pigs
in that place where he learned
of his own self worth
that place
where he gained an inkling
of the love that awaited him
in the place he called home
the place he had to leave
to find himself.
No comments:
Post a Comment