I told my son, come walk with me.
One obedient son. But today he asked,
"But why, Father?" Although in fright;
"Son watch my back, as I challenge His might."
He was small and weak, so followed me.
As I tread along the mountain path,
My innocent little one, once again asked,
"Father, where are we headed? Why do you climb?"
I said they say up above there originates a light.
"Isn't it the sun, Father? That shines so bright?"
"Well" I said, "Stop the talk."
"This road is a challenge, will you let me walk?"
He did quieten up, and I walked on.
Another hundred steps, until he asked,
"But father, why would you?
Has He done a great wrong?
Are His hands red?"
This infuriated me, I said, " Your sister is dead.
He took her away. Still love Him?"
"But everybody says she rests in peace."
"Keep quiet Martin" I said "and follow up."
"But Father, He created nature.
He created the rivers, the valleys,
He created the forest and the tree.
He created the very mountain on which you walk so free."
I looked back at him, and as soon as I,
Did this I tripped, had a fall.
On the ledge, to hold onto my hand was all.
Thousand feet above the ground, so close to death.
A hand reached me, still heavy was my breath.
"Take my hand, Father", said my son,
And I shrank within.
The world around me shrank, too.
The moment of reckoning was here.
The moment of knowing what was where.
Holding my son's little hand, I shrank.
Little did I realise,
The years do not matter.
And the years did not matter.
What mattered in that moment,
was the journey,
Homeward Bound.
I in my child's innocent worldly ways,
Found my true calling,
As I was Homeward Bound.
