On The Way Home

<br>His heart he offers them<br>...and they spurn.<br>Then in silence and seclusion<br>...silently he weeps.<br>However there is no one coming all along<br>who would wipe the tears from <br>his careworn face away.<br>And so with each brith of a day he gets up <br>and sets forth the new pilgrimage.<br><br>His endless heart stays opened still,<br>so that everyone could enter...<br>...only visitors sometimes come...<br><br>He is not clad like a king, <br>his garments bear the sign of distant lands, <br>though he is the embodiment of thee Lord.<br><br>So night after night as wave after wave<br>lonely yearning and silent weep dissembless<br>and they are smitting upon the merciless shore of body...<br><br>I wish my pilgrimage to reach home already.