Poem By Michael Norton
I think I’ll go home but where is that?
When your heart is nothing less then a trap,
And your feelings orbit somewhere out in space.
And your mind still lingers on that simple question of faith.
I think I’ll go south, where the birds do fly,
Under a large fan palm, my thoughts will lie,
My heart will thicken as my mind does roam,
That lingering question of the nature of my home.
I think I’ll go home tonight,
If I can find that lighthouse light,
I’ll follow that silvery saving beam,
As it leads me to a summer’s stream.
If home is where the heart is,
I’ll guess I’ll just go north,
Into the cold, mountain air,
Though that air is rather coarse.
I think I’ll go home, wherever that might be.
I’ll look inside my mind and I will hopefully see,
But my spinning thoughts block the view,
Isn’t that always the case?
With his noble experiment,
Called the human race?