The
Journey Home
A poem by Micah Hein
The sun
rises
Someone is
calling, unheard but known
A warm
summer morning chases away
evening dew
as friendly winds chase the
antelope.
Prancing in the new light.
They are
called home
Birds flock
to the sky, filling it with
life. The
cheetah hears the call, and
forgets his
stalk. Families meet.
They are
called home
Water
splashes under heavy, wrinkled hooves.
A young baby
dips his trunk for
water. A long
Journey awaits.
They are
called home
The sound
grows.
Flapping wings
of cranes
Stomping
feet of zebras
Hot breath of
buffalo
Chatter of
monkeys
It all grows
and grows
Even the
breeze in the trees dances with excitement
Close to
home
An elder is respected
for he loves
all. They bow as he climbs and
climbs. The sun gently smiles from its peak
as the son
rises.
We scream
We jump
We know
WE are home.
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