Come my way, to forever my love,
come this road traveled worn and run,
round the bends, down willows end,
into air fresh, northland blown,
the winds drive down ranges fall.
Waves crash hard upon our shores undone,
a storm rises from waters deep,
afar horizons darkness grows wide,
upon our land arrives a fear unseen.
At home, comes the tyrant, all seas roil,
a spewing forth of all this entails,
lustful for power from hades rise,
a demonic thirst of hatred’s fire.
Where does freedom fall,
whence does America fail toward,
away our liberty fells, from rivers wide,
beware of those who speak ill of Patriot’s pride,
and they that decry the flying of Gadsen high.
Riding into a past of thickening fog,
forest dimmed and leaves brush by,
horses run wild, acres of winding fence turn,
into a time of home, hearth and serene content.
Over hills fair to racing creek side bend,
dusk falls gently on forest leafed high,
smoke arching from chimneys rise.
Into a drive of covered vines of moss dipped low,
to your door opened wide and warmed aglow,
your arms and love welcomed and mine,
for all else fades, world’s worries far gone.
Our peaceful rest returned; His blessing restored.
Michael Finch is the president of the David Horowitz Freedom Center. His new book of poetry is Wanderings in Place.