December 16, 2012
A candle flickers
When a father dies.
It does not go out but buffeted
Flames again on an infant son.
Shadows dancing on the walls
Relive memories sculpted in the flesh of time
Drawing blood or tears, or laughter
Or sometimes just a smile
Yesterdays ghouls now have no dread
And fade as starved memories succumb
To peace and quiet stillness
Glazing a once fear fraught face
Laughter echoes in yellowed hallways of time
Merging memories melt and set
As faces smiling flit fondly
Past the windows of its raucous wake
A candle flickered at one souls passage
Night and peace reign ere day
But the tallow still burns brightly
As his children hail a suns new rays
As a father passes further onward
A mantle falls on his son
Weight of passage now unshared
On frail shoulders is feebly borne
Watershed moment, floundering feebly
Searching for strength and faint footing
Memory an unhelpful, reluctant guide through the gloom
Beckons vaguely as a dirge plays
To the hope of another day
Find your feet, forge your way,
Lead your family till that dark day
When your candle will flicker briefly
And your spark passes on
To another’s baton bearing
The heritage of a son.
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