There are a million ways home, not one marked in gold,
Not all are straight, not all are bold.
Some wind through forests, quiet and deep,
Some pass through sorrow, some through sleep.
A path may start where tears have dried,
Another where your fears reside.
One might be loud with laughter and flame,
Another may never speak your name.
Some walk the shoreline, chasing tides,
Some climb alone where silence hides.
And some will take the longest turn,
Through every loss, through every burn.
But home is not a place, you see—
It’s where you’re most allowed to be.
It’s found in moments, soft and clear,
In every soul who draws you near.
So don’t be rushed, don’t fear delay,
No map can steal your truth away.
For whether fast, or whether slow,
There are a million ways to go—
And every single one you roam
Can lead you, in its time, back home.
Thank-you for reading.
Remember there are many paths back to God.
Follow your own path,
Brenda Marie
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L <3 VED this more than words !!!!
This is a beautiful and reassuring poem. It wisely reframes “home” not as a destination, but as a state of being—of authenticity and connection. Its comforting message is that there is no single right path; our unique journeys, with all their twists and turns, are themselves what bring us home.