The rhythmic sound of my tires thumping over the interstate, The glow of light from cars passing by, street lamps and signs, My favorite songs turned up on the radio, The windows down enough to let the fresh air circulate around me, All that's missing is the smell of coffee in a steel thermos to transport me back to my childhood... The roads are long and the miles seem endless, But, I'm going home and I can't wait to get there! Only, when I do reach home at the end of the day, Hoping for sanctuary, for peace to calm my anxious heart, hoping to refuel for the next day, and the next, I find instead, discontent and am distracted by things undone and unfulfilling: They wear me down, and I lose sight of the hope for home. Clutter, unending dust, the no longer wanted, no longer useful, Outgrown or worn out clothing, Leftover dishes, Plants dying, the dirty dog water bowl, The long, long list of things needing care. The fear, the guilt, the shame over all o...