Coming Home

Thousands of bodies
were crammed onto the small pier,
eyes trained on the sea.
Red, white and blue balloons flew overhead
in the swift, cool September breeze.
The air buzzed with quiet chatter
as families waited nervously.
Each moment swelled into the next.
Even the babies seemed to sense
what was coming;
a tearful reunion with someone they had
yet to meet,
someone who helped to create them
but had not been there to witness their arrival.
Suddenly,
as if the hours had slipped by
in a moment,
a new sound began to grow
on the horizon.
The sound of water splashing out in celebration,
of bodies standing stiffly,
the faint murmur of a single trumpet.
All were focused on the growing sound,
knowing that it meant the return of their loved ones,
so long left
at sea.