Going Home

Painting by Kirby Sattler

Going Home



by Bonnie M Torrente
Sunday, April 27, 2003


“Going Home”

He was born American Indian,
A half-breed, his mother was white.
He lived in both worlds, in his childhood,
The years, taking toll on his plight.


He longed for the city, by the age of seventeen,
Reservation life had lost its call to return.
So he closed his eyes to that part of himself,
Taking only the things he had learned.


Never really fitting in, but outstanding on his own,
At ease with being different from the others.
Loving son, loyal friend, unfaithful to his heart,
Denying secret longings for his brothers.


The part of himself, he tried to deny,
Beckoned to him through the years.
The path of his choice, filled with remorse,
Empty dreams holding buckets of tears.


The Indian traditions, as he came to know,
Were part of himself all the time.
Memories buried so deep, he wasn’t aware,
They lay still, in the caverns of his mind.


He searched for ways to fill the big void,
Labored by what made him alone.
Until he heard their song, singing there all along,
His People were calling him home.



COPYRIGHT©2000 BY BONNIE TORRENTE