Waiting Here

No images used are mine;

cover/background photos found here.

The memories, the pain so soft

but burning through my heart

as I stare at that little split

where our yellow-bricked roads part.

No bread crumbs follow what I need,

no pen or maze to trace,

no com needle pointing to

that old lost-and-found place.

They say that the way to cope when

you don't know your way around

is just to stay right where you are

and wait until you're found.

So I'll wait 'till your footsteps come

and your whereabouts are shown,

and once I'm standing by your side,

I'll know I've found my home.