When I stand beside
the Ocean -
Perhaps
a mate by my side -
I
am humbled by the vast wide open,
Naked,
collapsing, with nowhere to hide.
And the expanse
arrayed before me
Formless
and flat and wide,
Is
the great earth's analogy,
For
how a man is called to abide.
The opposite side is
too distant
For
a child to imagine its shore.
A
father must in this life be regnant;
One
for the child to adore.
A man begets his
loved children,
And
learns that he must rise in his soul
To
form the clay into strong men
And
satisfy the God-given role.
A one of the same
was there at my side
The
moment I birthed on the scene.
Would
he had thrown his arms so wide -
A
bosom like Abraham's for me to lean.
His life would not
be measured by success,
Rather
on the manliness he taught.
Worldly
trophies not to be his dress,
But
the struggles that he sore fought.
Rising from rest to
find rest in spirit,
Wending
his way to the daily hunt.
His
return to our haven of comfort,
All
failures of character abhorrent.
The man of the
family divesting his heart
To
be essence for the men he's making.
Emptying
all from his part
Into
the boyish containers needing.
The dream of my
birth painfully dashed
When
the man never came to fruition.
Instead
the man found grossly stashed
A
heart lacking in selfless ration.
Created damaged and
madly broken
He
never had a life he could divide.
The
one who was to teach us to be men
Had
no chance to be our ordained guide.
The helmsman that we
hoped for
Took
to sea and sailed over the horizon,
As
three boys, along with generations more,
Longed
for any man to call each of them son.
They gather on the
sandy expanse
To
look out on the exit he made.
The
ocean to be illumined by his hand
Was
left shrouded while his memory did fade.
This man we gather
in chapel to mourn
Has
not passed from the celestial mind's sight.
Though
his presence we all do scorn,
Is
remembered by He who is true might.
The man who never
was
Is
faintly remembered in heart.
His
absence gives us great pause,
Knowing
what should have been his part.
And my anger has to
fade now,
For
I have followed his route somehow.
I
see his choices were made unfreely,
A
psyche damaged by illness unusually.
I, a man, the same
yet differently minded
With
children of my own to whose needs I’m blinded,
I’ve
tried my best and so repeatedly,
My
guideless rudder minded poorly.
Three of mine own
sent upon the waves,
And
I am closer to leaning on staves.
I’ve
failed them often though I hope they see
I’m
frail and broke, and neither a captain of the sea
Will the end be
better than the beginning received?
Or
upon the waves tossed til mine own box is heaved?
The
children I adore as my father never could
I
pray that they love as best as he loved me should.
