May 18, 2011
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My heart seeks the hearth, my feet seek the road.
A soul so divided is a terrible load.
My heart longs to rest, my feet yearn to roam.
Shall I wander the road, or stay safely at home?

Across the gently rolling hills,
beyond high mountain peaks,
along shores of distant seas,
there’s something my heart seeks.
But there’s no peace in wandering.
The road’s not made for rest,
and footsore fools will never know
what home might suit them best.

But, oh, the things that I have seen.
The secret paths I’ve trod.
The hidden corners of the world,
known to none but me and God.
Yes, the world was meant for knowing,
and feet were meant to roam,
but one who is always going
will never find a home.
Oh, where is the thread that binds me,
The voice that calls me back?
Where’s the love that finds me,
and what’s the root I lack?

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