In my mind's eye I can see a young lad,
Tightly clutching his Father's hand,
As he says with a pleading voice so sad,
Daddy, I just don't understand.

We've traveled so far,
And we continue to roam.
I want to go where our loved ones are.
Why can't we just go home?

Then I hear his Father say,
"Be patient my precious son,"
"At the ending of the day,"
"Your traveling will be done!"

"For just over the hill,"
"And around the next bend,"
"I promise your journey will,"
"Come to an end!"

Oh God, I'm just like that young lad.
I'm getting so weary.
I can't count the trials I've had,
That to me were so dreary.

My journey has been long,
And the obstacles have been great.
At times I've lost my song,
And I've been too impatient to wait.

For there's a longing in my heart,
To see loved ones who've gone on before.
Oh, my world was torn apart,
When they left for Heaven's shore.

Ah, but with the eye of faith I see,
A glimpse of that Heavenly dome
So, Lord hear my earnest plea,
Why can't I just come home?

Robert F. Dotson © 2011
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