I have slept beneath a hundred roofs, heard a hundred doors close behind me, learned the names of unfamiliar streets, then left before they learned mine. I have watched the harbor lose the sun, watched the tide erase the shore, and every road has promised me a place I'd never need anymore. But there are lights that call no traveler, there are hands that never ask you why. There are rooms where you can lay your burden down, and no one weighs what you leave behind. So leave the lantern burning low, I'll know the window from the sea. You needn't call, you needn't wait, just leave a little light for me. And if the night has changed my name, if I come back less whole than when I came, don't ask me who I had to be. Just open the door, and let me be home. There are words we learn to say too well, little lies that keep the world from knowing. There are smiles we wear like Sunday clothes long after all the guests are going. But you have seen me without ceremony, with nothing clever left to say. You never loved the songs I sang for strangers more than the silence when they fell away. There are hearts that make no promises, because they have no need to bind. There are arms that do not hold you still, only tell you: stay, if you decide. So leave the lantern burning low, I'll know the window from the sea. You needn't call, you needn't wait, just leave a little light for me. And if the night has changed my name, if I come back less whole than when I came, don't ask me who I had to be. Just open the door, and let me be home. I cannot promise I will never wander. You cannot promise you will never grieve. Love was never keeping someone near you. Love is knowing they can leave. And still— somewhere beyond the darkened water, somewhere beyond the turning foam, there is one small light that doesn't follow, because it knows you know the way home. So leave the lantern burning low, though years may pass between the sea and me. No bells, no vows, no grand return, one light is all I'll need to see. And if the world has changed my face, if time has taken things I can't replace, say nothing of the road to me. Just open the door. Set another cup beside your own. And let me be home. Leave the lantern burning low. I'll find it. I'll come home.
