POETRY

How Does Your Heaven Look?

A poem dedicated to the man I called my Father

Photo by Michael Krahn on Unsplash

~ prelude ~

Is my greatest guilt
found in the weight
of my tired eyes?

Am I not guilty of more?
Did I not curse myself
in a moment of daring —
forcing myself not
to cry,
for suddenly I needed
a challenge!

And not once has my eye
been wettened
or even met by tear.

~ the Journey ~

A desert of impassible
emotions mixed
with Fear,
dripping in wanting wait
waiting for me to
finally, appear
and lend ear
and strength
and power
to hold
the space
in a final Hour
to reveal Fate —
and so We wait.