Sun Comes
O Son
my earlier version
vanished

they said
son will come
after nine months
so kindly
wait and see
beautiful lovely one
what
son
but came none

I walk these woods this autumn day
then come upon a dim game trail
and since it goes along my way
I let its direction prevail
and add my prints to those of deer

The path traverses a hillside
through mixed hardwoods of middling age
where squirrels play and owls abide
here on this deep sylvan stage
beneath a sky that's cool and clear.

My Father did not plant fruit trees
or a garden with any sort of vegetable,
like a tomato plant, or peppers.

It was I that planted, harvested all of that.

His example did not lodge with me
never having flown down from the sky
wrapped in a fighter plane

machine guns blazing towards a ground confined enemy
they there, trembling in fear, hiding from
his bullets and bombs thrown while in God’s bubble.

I loved him so, yet my path differed

An ecstasy of needing.
Overwhelmingly seeking.
How great are the first demands?

The feel of warm skin
Sparks the embers within.
How pure is a Mother's love?

The scars and skinned knees.
That stinger; fear of bees!
How true are the lessons we learn?

Love found and then lost.
All the lies and their cost.
How dear is the price we pay?

That peace can be found
By removing one's crown.
How sweet is accepting the truth?