In His Returning (The Prodigal)




If I am lost…

If these hands

no longer

Grasp you

If these feet,

Feeble and calloused

Refuse to inch forward

Static… and alone

If this body,

Aching and groaning

Heart ache

Life ebbing away

Flowing out more

Than flowing in

If this is who

I am now…

If I am found

If I am empty

Then I am powerless

I am a broken


Used up

Dropped and shattered


If I am lost…

Who can save?

Who can save…me?

Because if I am lost

If I am indeed static

Like an empty radio signal

If this is me…

Who will rescue this…

This mess

Who would even dare

To care?

Everything flows out of me

Except for this empty

Am I my own worst


Is there any hope left…

For me? 


Just when I pray

For the end…

The end of this

The end of all things

Within this broken

Shattered heart

Within the shell

Of an empty man

Something happens

It’s not desperation

nor spiritual exsanguination

 this mind has not

left for vacation

but something happens

from the outside

flowing life back into me

something I can’t explain

Fear replaces hopelessness

It ignites my fingertips

Ignites and increases my shallow breathing

Fear gives way to something

Long lost to me…

A warmth, blanket thick

Envelops me

I am assured

With arms around me

That I am safe

I am home

Was I lost?  Was I truly found?

Then I hear his words

In my ear

A feast for me

For me?  I don’t deserve anything but blame and guilt…for me?  My savior

My hope…turns and says to others near

This is my son…he was lost but now he’s found

My life, my love, my joy is returned to me

Come let us help him see

Let us celebrate in his


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