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I Hope It Gets Me HomeMy rusty pick-up fought with the thick red mudthe shacks were all roofless or stripped to their studsI hadn't seen my stubborn ol' Pa in way too many yearsmy thoughts were muddy from dusty memories and tearssigns were all leaned over..their backs broken from the stormgears howlin' in my rig..I thought "I just hope it gets me home"well, my wheels were spittin' mud so I locked my weary Fordfollowed naked oaks and snapped pines down that narrow roadmy father tried to teach me...many bottles agobut I let the winds, of wine and sin catch my wayward soullast I heard he was sittin' with a snakestick all alonerag dolls on that washed-out road...I said "I just hope it gets me home"well, the wind blew a hymn with a lonesome mournful lyricsacred as if it had been ghost-written by the Holy Spiritsaw my Pa on his porch reading in his creaky old rockerGood Book in his lap...robin-redbreast perched on his walkeras he pulled me in his arms he was pale as a midnight ghostshriveled legs beneath a blanket said eternity was closehe said he didn't mind bein' weak, he didn't get out that muchand remember...on faith's mountain road, legs can be a crutchyes, we're all born adrift and dust awaits our bonesbut God's map has led me upward and I hope it gets me homewell, I walked back to my Fordthe sad day I left his stoneset his Bible on my dashboard and thought I hope it gets me home(c)2006 Robert George