For my Father, for my Grandfather, for my Words
To the beginning son, go back with me
Remember how I stood beside you when…
No, you only remember my absence.
Here we return with precision, an arrow
Fired by the great Tell who reveals us.
The apple on our heads, the gift of Eve
Who saw in us the beginning of Love.
On a hill in Wales, Father enters me
Not with punishment, but with his sadness.
Fills me with a beauty that consumes me:
Simple sheep graze on green grass on green hills,
Too many verdant hues to name. The blue meets us
Compassion like the sky hosts metamorphs:
Clouds, lurking innocent children of beasts
Whose anger gave us this green, gave these sheep.
Gave us wool that warms us in winter.
Gave us mutton that fills our hunger.
Beauty these gifts represent enters
Me like Father returning to the land
Of his own. “Get on your knees, son, sorrow,
You must feel it now. These gifts given you
Lie in waste like blood in scaled veins. Look up!
Through tears, I show you once again! This time,
I will humble you and you will know Love.
With it, do good like storm begets spirit.
Rise up, face the life I called you to live.”
I got off my knees and climb the mountain
To toss the precious that ruled like a curse
Masking my Soul, invisible to me,
Led me to the river to steal fish
From mouths needing food,
Kill those whose only crime:
The place of their birth.
I became Monster
A monster does not know exists
The mirror sees past the blush,
Through the mascara of a mask painted
In green rooms of youth only to be smudged
By the tears of life’s stage.
Now, the Father
Who returns to me, kneeling in supplication,
“Get up! Climb, son, climb. Go find the path
To treasure granted by breath that fills lungs,
Breathe out songs only one Soul will echo,
Love that will be the melody of Life.”