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Home Called HimHe boarded that midnight Amtrakpopped a couple of Zantachad dinner then read alone in the dining carhe didn't mind the nitty-grittybut the grime of that big citywas dirtier than the mud on his daddy's farmstill, he'd been too proud to phoneand tell his folks he missed homethen last week a small package camewhen his dad mailed his old King Jamesyeah, he had nothing to his nameand just pain in his heartwhen his father reached for himand called him in the darkwith his roots so far offhope seemed so dimbut with no home, to call his ownhome called him...home called himlost along the southwest borderJuan stabbed a cactus for wateras one crow turned five and evening fellhis dreams were his last companionand as he layed down in that canyonsnakes slipped from stones and shadows from their shellsthrough the dust and the tearsthe faces of his loved ones appearedand as his final breath was lostthat cactus looked like a holy crosshe had nothing to his nameand just pain in his heartwhen his fam'ly reached for himand called him in the darkwith his roots so far offhope seemed so dimbut with no home, to call his ownhome called him...home called himit was a trav'ling preacher long agowho taught us the meaning of homewith just a thorny crown and a prayerhe showed each of us the way therehe had nothing to his nameand just pain in his heartwhen his father reached for himand called him in the darkwith his roots so far offhope seemed so dimbut with no home, to call his ownhome called him...home called him(c)2005 Robert George