Coming Home Again

by Kevin Sinclair

The rain was falling and the skin was wet
A cold wind blew down from the mountain
Thunder rolled across the darkened sky
Wandering down a well worn path
The stranger was coming home again.

Burn the wood from the mountain
Build a fire both warm and bright
Lay the weary body down to rest
Let the sleep be filled with pleasant dreams
Conserve energy for the eventual fight.

Wake in the morning to see the sunrise
Look into the blue sky with awe
The mind and body are overjoyed
Hope is eternal, love is blind and
The stranger is coming home again.

The people had all been warned
Not the slightest sound could be heard
They sat still with their expectations
Waiting for the figure to emerge
Silence was fear of the return.

Mothers had locked up their daughters
Fathers had armed their sons
They said it would never change
They would shoot it dead
When the stranger come home again.

He saw his reflection in the water
He knew how much he had changed
He walked these last few miles
Eager to be reunited with his peoples
The stranger was coming home again.

A mother waited with joyful expectations
Eager to hold him to her breast
A father spat on the ground
Said that he was the worst
A shot – they both felt the pain.

He lifted his eyes to the heavens
As he breathed his last breath
His face radiated peace
A father cried what have we done
We never killed the beast!

Copyright ©1979 and 1998 KG Sinclair. All rights reserved.