November 19, 2017

The Family, Part Two

A trilogy of poems by Chaplain Mike.

II. The Father

A hundred years have passed, or so it seems,
Since news was brought to me–oh father’s joy!
A son, our first, the image of his kin.
How strong he rose! How righteous, true!
Serious child with scrupulous eye,
Steadfast he stands, surveys the family stock.
Servants step lively when he speaks;
No merchant pockets bulge when he is sold.
And so I withhold nothing from my scion.
Blessed progeny!

Just yesterday, as broken-hearts mark time,
A rebel spoke, his words blew dark the lamps.
I saw no other course; with tears I acquiesced,
And off he skipped, my generous bounty won.
Our younger son, without restraint or sense,
Abandoned home and wisdom’s smoother path.
To seek what? A way without confinement, duty drear?
Ah, how I feared an acrid aftermath!
Why could I not restrain my lenient urge?
Soft-hearted sire!

Today, I rose unrested, troubled, vexed;
Red sky portending some new chaos born.
I showed no sign that gave away my fear
Nor spoke of the unease that filled my soul.
All charge I ceded to my firstborn son,
While I walked out to view the coming storm.
Before the clouds a figure wandered slow–
Familiar strides! My breath caught in my chest.
A sob, a cry; robes hiked free legs to race.
Blessed resurrection!