the crossing was quiet
it was just before dawn
and the cold grey sky
was full of broken cloud
it looked so peaceful
just a few rays of sunlight bursting slow
upon the new days world
felt so much like home
that i remember so clear
through the kitchen window
my mother baking on the crisp
sunday morning
through the schoolhouse window
friends that have since lost their way
once smiling upon me with such delights
lead my horse slow past the encampment
and marveled at the faces i saw there
in the new days world
where are my merciful friends
the ones who bind my wounds
and ease my fevered brow
then she came up out of the crowd
this stranger laid her hand to mine
and gave me sustenance and strength
as she explained that her man
had marched off so proud and fair
to seal the fate of the nation and protect hearth and home
but he never came home
and that though we be strangers
she could see him in my eye
knew him in my stance
and it was then i knew
i had ridden into no encampment of strangers
i had come home
the crossing was quiet
from this earthly domain to
the vaulted spires of the great beyond
the crossing was quiet
it was just before dawn
and the cold grey sky
was full of broken cloud
it looked so peaceful
just a few rays of sunlight bursting slow
upon the new days world
felt so much like home
and i am so grateful to finally be called home