My Father honors me
By his lineage, unrecognized
By a flashy world. He journeys
Long and hard emitting sparks
From a view above, resonating notes
That ripple upon seas in hearts. A clever
Man of numbers, a wise man of words,
Whose muscles ache by livelihood
On whose lips never utter a word.
A humble man manifesting a writer,
A philosopher, a peacemaker, a father.
Calling me his eyes, his heart, his father.
He darkens the sun by the brilliance
Of his thoughts, elevates the land
By the pressure of his feet, sweetens
The air by the sweat of his brow, stops
The clock by the beauty of his speech.
He bewilders Mother by the love
In his heart, helps another by the fold
Of his hand, turns the night by the prayer
On his lips, soothes the pain with the hope
In his soul. His existence is the world
Cradled in logic. He is my heart that pumps
Life and my eyes that see it. He is my Father.
Copyright © 2013 Shainbird. All rights reserved.