Every year, for the last few years since I wrote it, I post my little poem ‘Clean Monday’ to mark this day, the beginning of Great and Holy Lent. I did so again this year, but I also want to post a song that I believe was inspired by the same spirit, maybe the same childhood memories—sea coast, sun, kites in the wind—the warm, friendly kindness of the heavenly Father who calls us home, to be with Him, in this beautiful time when we journey to Pascha, the resurrection and life eternal…
Home
[Audio Link]
Home on a kite we fly,
home on a breeze we blow,
eyeing the folks below,
and watching everybody run,
each one heading for a different place,
watching everybody hide,
each behind a different face.
Home, where the days are long,
back where the people are free,
home, where all sides agree,
and everybody has a friend, oh,
and no one ever has to grab—
Everybody shares the love,
giving everything they have.
Forever, forever, your lamp will burn.
Forever, home forever, would that you'd learn,
that you came with nothing,
so with nothing you'll return.
Home.
You know you’re not alone.
It's only ‘cause you’re not at home
That you feel so out of place
Forever, forever, your lamp will burn.
Forever, home forever, would that you'd learn,
that you came with nothing,
so with nothing you'll return.
Home, where all the mums can sing,
back where the children don't cry,
home, where you never ask why.
Everybody has enough,
and you don't have to put on clothes.
Nobody has to hide
‘cause everyone already knows.
— Steven Demetre Georgiou
The song’s author, once well known pop singer Cat Stevens, now and for most of his adult life Muslim believer Yusuf Islam, may he return Home, as he once wrote and sang in this song, by the grace of the Father whom he believes in so strongly, through the prayers of the most-holy Theotokos and all the saints, especially Stephanos the Proto-martyr, and Demetrios and Georgios the Trophy-bearers, all witnesses of Him who was dead, but is alive now and ever, the Alpha and the Omega, He who is, who was, and who is to come, the Pandokrator.
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