Coming Home

Coming Home



In darkness, he had traveled far
until he saw the welcome glow
beckoning like a guiding star;
a dancing light upon the snow.

He peered within the frosted glass
and saw a vision, like a dream,
raising memories from his past,
reflected in the window's gleam.

He felt, once more, his emptiness
and as he turned to walk away,
his weakness and his days of stress
swept over him. In snow he lay.

The cold soon faded and he slept,
the glow his blanket in the night.
The crystals of the tears he wept
glistened in the dancing light.

Inside the house, a young boy played
until his mom said, "Time for bed."
He changed and, in his jammies, prayed,
a secret wish kept in his head.

Dear Lord, he said, I don't ask much
but I'd be grateful for a friend.
Then, against the wall, he placed his crutch
and with a smile, he said, "Amen."

It might have been an answered prayer
or perhaps a wimpering bark
that traveled through the cold night air
and aroused him in the dark.

From his window, through falling snow,
he saw a dark form huddled there.
He hurried to the spot below
and found a dog with matted hair.

They say that angels can appear
to those whose hearts are filled with love.
That night they must have been quite near
watching from the skies above.

The dog now sleeps upon his bed,
for, in each other, they have found
the strength to walk the road ahead.
They share their dreams, forever bound.



Notes:
An entry for "Picture Perfect Poetry Contest" 
Prompt: Image
Line Limit: Minimum -12; Maximum – 40
Line Count: 40

Thank you for taking time to read my words. I would appreciate it if you took a moment and left a comment. Your reaction, impressions, criticisms, - yes, even encouragement and/or praise - are all equally welcome. Season's Blessings!
Ken