Sunday, June 21, 2009

Thoughts on Thoughtfulness (Thank You, Solomon. Thank You, Father)

While listening to his hands
I can only think of yours
Weathered with the work of a lifetime
The constant building of yourself
The foundations of all that we are in turn
An intern to the true ways of living
I have learned
I am learning to apply
The high notes are the soft tones that your voice was so well known for
Never by surprise
Every piece of a love that you were making in me
In hopes that the rest might one day see
My hands are taking to a mold
That you so inexhaustibly perfected
Heroes are not just figments of my mind
Though the way I remember things sometimes seems to be
And very possibly is
I would rather know it all that way
Early evenings
Porch seranades
The many fathers that I have had in the few years that I have been
All of them missed
You were the impenetrable force
You are now safe inside my impenetrable walls
Your words and actions are the mortar that holds this structure in its place
I know that it was this
And that it was you
That gave the orders to let it stand
Even when the demolition attempts came from so close to home
Outside of the body are so many occurences
Inside the body are so many assassins
And yet I stand
I give you some of the credit
Because I know not to whom I should offer
I am angered at times
I have not yet thanked you
But I am persistent as you, now
In an attempt to keep me here and aware
You never read these words
Or any others that I may have written
And, while you never knew where my mind was leaving off to
You knew it was never here
It is with you, now that you are not
It leaves off to find you
And as a consequence to the situation
My body never will
It has tried
And without rejection
You have denied me that much
So the day goes
So the holiday goes
In your absence
As any other day
The gratitude I have is only to the endless choices that you made
While you had the time
While that time was falling short
And then, when there was none
And as I begin my every day with these words
Goodbye again
Titles that you could never have lived up to
Erroneous being that you were
Now, in death, you have seemingly mastered...

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