In the stillness of the night,
only the crickets can be heard.
The grass beneath my feet soft.
On the open field I walk.
In the middle of the field I stopped.
I turned around and looked at my house.
A silhouette in the background.
Soft light coming from the windows.
Like a painting from Thomas Kinkade.
My home looked cosy and inviting.
The light kept the dark at bay.
I could feel the warmth of home.
The house is only wood and bricks.
Yet, it gives out a warm glow.
Soft lights from the windows.
Reflecting the heart at peace.
Will another see the same image?
This which I see is comforting.
It is God’s hand on my home.
Keeping all who dwell here safe.
By C.E. Pereira