Vision Healing the Wounds of War

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Warrior Writings

Welcome Home

When I was five, I killed.

It was a wounded robin;
I was strong and healthy.
It was so small;
I was huge.
I only knew it had to die.

I stood on the board I put over it
Until the robin was dead.
I felt adrenaline
And then deep shame.
It was fifty years before I told anyone.

Everywhere, ever since,
I have found feathers,
Picked them up,
Honored them, shared them.
I have come to feel the spirit of that slain robin
And the wounded part of me I tried to kill.

That robin and I
Each part of a wholeness.
Great Spirit,
Thank you for your “Welcome home.”


Ellen H. Saul