it was loaned to you by your children.
We do not inherit the Earth from our Ancestors, we borrow it from our Children."
Ancient Indian Proverb
She Sits
She sits on the hill and waits
Searching the endless horizon
Silent tears creeping down her face
Praying to the ancestors
He does not come home
She goes about her day
Hauling water
Sweeping the home
Numb and unaware as if in dream
He does not come home
She gathers with the village
Others welcoming their mates
The husbands, the fathers,
Warriors with wounds and scars
He does not come home
She comes when she is beckoned
Through the crowd to face the Chief
She looks on the face of the fallen
And her heart turns to cold ice
He has come home
She sits on the hill at sunrise
Her face shows no emotion
Her hand trembles as she waits
Slowly her eyes grow heavy
Her heart stops from the herbs she has taken
He welcomes her in his arms at last
Mel 2001
Searching the endless horizon
Silent tears creeping down her face
Praying to the ancestors
He does not come home
She goes about her day
Hauling water
Sweeping the home
Numb and unaware as if in dream
He does not come home
She gathers with the village
Others welcoming their mates
The husbands, the fathers,
Warriors with wounds and scars
He does not come home
She comes when she is beckoned
Through the crowd to face the Chief
She looks on the face of the fallen
And her heart turns to cold ice
He has come home
She sits on the hill at sunrise
Her face shows no emotion
Her hand trembles as she waits
Slowly her eyes grow heavy
Her heart stops from the herbs she has taken
He welcomes her in his arms at last
Mel 2001