Homeward Bound

They came thousands strong , Walked in threes and fours , The city they called home awhile , Had turned hostile, shut its doors , And called them migrants. With no food , no shelter, they fled , Carrying their babies and belongings. Thus began the exodus.

Homeward bound they were , The winding road their map and compass. They walked crisscrossing the country , To their villages scattered everywhere. The blazing sun, hunger and thirst , Their only comparisons .

Some, light of heart , Since they were going home . Others with a heavy heart , For what they left behind . But all of them were bound , For somewhere , for their home .

Some were met with kindness, Along the winding road . Some were shunned , cast out of town , For migrants they were and Guests they remained , At the mercy and the whims of the hosts .

Are we not then just migrants, Travelling the earth awhile ? Here one day , gone the next , As we are homeward bound . Our lives like those winding roads , Take us where we follow, to the end .

Why then do we strive so hard , To attach ourselves to worldly possessions, And to a life that is interim ? Let us learn to embrace the simple joys , The momentary pleasures and Live in the present as befits a guest .