The Prodigal Son [2] Poem by Gert Strydom

I

Hunger gnaws at my stomach
and a much deeper hunger of which the pain does not want to fade

when intensely the sun hangs day-long above me,
when I catch the smell of the farmer's barbeque fire

and I have to cover my nakedness with rags
while I have got to graze on pods like a mere animal.

II

When the sun sets in the distance over the hillocks
in my hart there is a kind of uneasiness

and in the dark night when the stars are shining
it's as if I can see my father beckoning in the distance

as if my days of rollicking and jolliness
has brought me to a time of deep regret

and I know that I have got to go back,
to be accountable to my father

and my heart feels heavy-laden while I walk the last bit of the way,
can hear blue thunder roaring in the distance

and in the rain my farther stands waiting
like only a farther can, for a child that comes out of the night.