Sunday, April 10, 2016
Epitaph
Epitaph
Wide plains, wide sky
does not matter to him now
Broken, he kneels
in this holiest of places
ground for monuments
temple for those
who are now gone
Thy embrace held him
safe so many years
your voice lingered upon
hair golden, shined on the wind
your strength was god-like
the spirit-unbreakable
Ah, when you laughed
and when you sang
your hands guided
and weavered his life
the fire wisdom-always there
to make things right
In the wind, he thinks, heard a voice
Whispers distant
light brought at last:
Oh, my son,
my pride, my reason
for all the brave doings
during struggles great
and small
Oh, my strong son,
my iron will now inherit
my conviction may pass onto you
even that I am long gone
from this world
Proud of you, I am
go forth with my last of blessings.
The invisible hands helped him up
on his feet again
onward, his path
now goes
Farewell, mother…
…till we see each other again.
Till you hold me in your brace
again.
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