Father's Day - Poem by Richard Dixon
First Father’s Day since he passed away.
For him death saw no need for haste,
It stayed a while, enjoyed his taste.
I saw his raw decay.
It took his self respect.
I try to be brave as I look at his grave
And I drown an eye in the remembrance of my friend.
When the Collector of the Dead
Finally hushed the requiem of his suffering,
There were no famous last words, no Fierce Rage.
He just went quietly, broken by age.
Death collected its debt as it always does
And the shroud fitted neatly - as it always does.
Saints and killers,
With no need for a name,
It greets them just the same,
It’ll do the same for you.
Impartial Time has one infinite, constant story,
So all hail the Power and the Glory!
Sins turn to ashes,
Kindnesses to dust.
The earth has taken him.
The earth has left him behind.
Out of mind and out of sight,
Time’s tide dissolves all the footprints.
The road is behind him now,
And set for dominions above,
Another pilgrim makes its fervent flight
Towards far off celestial light.
But when he reaches heaven’s blue gate,
Will he stand there naked, alone
Bones bleaching in His sun?
A stranger amidst indifferent stars,
Absolute, for always.
Some say its not the end.
I say Goodbye to my friend.
Please God, give him a smile to warm his tired soul.
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