Down a serpentine country road.
Beyond the piney woods.
In the midst of great oaks
painted in hues of moss.

Beyond the stranglehold of progress.
Outcast of the urbanites.
Among the willows and the reeds.
Along this season's creek.

Alive with the cry of the coyote,
the hiss of the serpent,
and the daunting call of the cougar.

Amidst the trees abundant with
the chirp of the cardinal,
the song of the bluejay,
the scream of the hawk,
and the resounding question
echoing from a wise old barn owl.

Where the whitetail refuge,
the armadillos feast, and
the wild-dogs run.

Where the longhorn bawls,
the boar wallows on the bank,
and the sorrel rolls in amber waves.

Where the thunder rolls,
the rain washes away,
and the clouds open to reveal
infinite azure raining light
upon an endless prairie.

I awake to find myself here,
in the presence of His works,
and in the arms of my beloved wife.

Yes, I believe I am in Heaven.
This must be the way home.

Copyright, Kevin V. Reese, 2004