Nice To Belong

It’s so nice to be with You.  It’s so nice to belong.   It’s so nice to find my way home. 

Out the door, I am each morning often before the sun has even appeared over the tree tops.  I fight for my space in the asphalt jungle.  The unforgiving and unrelenting hands of time chase my efforts all the day.  The siren blares repeatedly, ringing as a friendly instrument of communication in the morning but by late afternoon, it morphs into an invading monster.  He who signs my check bellows for more and more.  My head aches from fighting an unending triathlon of productivity, quality and customer relations. 

Out the door, I am each evening often long after the sun has disappeared below the tree tops.  I fight for my space in the asphalt jungle.  The unforgiving and unrelenting needs and weaknesses of my loved ones chase my efforts all the night.  The voices shout repeatedly, ringing as a method of communication, forging through boundaries of respect and kindness.  He who shares my pillow bellows for more and more.  My body aches from the unending demands of daughter, wife and mother. 

It’s so nice to be with You.  It’s so nice to belong.  It’s so nice to find my way home.

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