DRIVING HOME, CHRISTMAS DAY

in memory of my father (1917-2007)

You can live half your life in a fantasy of yourself
but then it suddenly becomes vital not to lie
about where you came from and who you are
through those who made you, behind you -
because however difficult they were, they are
your only ground where the earth bisects
your vertical being and becoming...

Whoever you have behind you, donít discard them
being true to who you are, but in seeing them, see
they are the love you have to prove
in this river youíve been born into
reaching from your tree into its only roots.

So as I see you sitting in the light and smiling, Dad
in your cream polo kneck, watery blue-eyed, I know
that only the truth allows the love to be
its its shining fullness, allowing me to receive
its strength and blessing, seeing me on my way tonight.
and every night Iíll go on leaving you
to cross this void of darkness outside -

arriving a little deeper into the mystery
of the life that was given to be mine.

2007

« back to poetry list