Hallowed was your name—
Daddy, then Dad, then mystery itself.
Your kingdom, your will—
my desire, my hope.
On earth I pursued them
through tears and fears,
Urging myself forward
in silent wonder.
You gave me each day my daily bread,
my nightly peace.
But I wanted more on earth, not in heaven.
Forgive me my striving, my heart stretched thin with longing,
as I forgive you your alcohol and smokes—stealers of time, dealers of death.
Oh, the agony of watching you die, wrestling with demons,
moaning out your salvation—groan by groan through the night.
Your own wordless lament.
Your special prayer: What’s the point?
In such dark moments I knew you knew God
the same God you’d showed me
when you gave me my name
when you nodded a blessing:
“I understand, Lynda.”
You owe me no debt
I owe you my life, my looks, and my smarts.
I guessed your temptations, your trials and your risks.
You made them yourself. As did I mine.
Thank you, my father, for sharing your
God and your faith and your shy kind of love.
I longed for more words—but had none myself.
The problem, dear Daddy? We’re too much alike.
The kingdom, the power, and the glory were yours on earth,
so I thought. And in heaven?
Grand items like these belong to Mystery alone.
We couldn’t take more than the glimpses we had, Dad.
Could we?
Happy 108th Birthday, my father—forever and ever amen.
2 comments:
When we see our parents in ourselves . . . Beautiful.
This is wonderful! I love "The Lord's Prayer." If that a even an appropriate title, and certainly not written the British tongue St. James' translation. What I love is that, the Holy One, the one named God is finally freed in our minds eye from some disillusioned notion of a throne on high and placed squarely in the middle of our daily lives. Long may God be found right under our noses metaphorically and actually.
Aside from that, I love the shared forgiveness respect and love. I want to say Thanks be to God that some can live long enough to be gifted with these great wisdoms while they still are able to enjoy this this blessed relationship and all that grows from it in the right here and the and right now.
Love Laur
PS still looing for my poem on the computer...don't want to retype but I can if necessary.
Post a Comment