For Dad

You loved my poetry. Here’s one for you.

I wage not any feud with death,
I know that human worth transplants,
It doesn’t end with mortal breath;
This should comfort me. It can’t.

State to state to form we move,
Solid to air and back we shift,
In every plight feel so much love,
We call each mortal frame a gift.

Or YOU did, placid, smiling man,
Buddha, I teased; you rolled your eyes.
You claimed one day I’d understand.
You were wrong. You did not lie.

We spoke much on theography
Those precious nights I helped you cook;
You never once talked down to me.
You gave me all my favorite books.

My dearest interests, looking o’er,
Most or all lead back to you.
You named the stars and gods of yore,
And trusted I’d know what to do.

I don’t. I think I never have. And now,
I’m left with a whole world
That you’re not in, could not follow
My daddy like a daddy’s girl.

You’ve gone ahead, as often did,
Left me behind, let go my hand,
Gone home knowing I would forgive.
I love; I cannot understand.

Eternal process, such is life –
We see through a glass, and darkly.
Time staggers like a beast in strife…
Behold, I am a dead, dried tree.

I’m frozen in this mortal shell,
This child-thing you left behind.
I’m not in any kind of hell,
Except I cannot seem to cry.

The grief is numb, o’ershadowed by
Knowing you’re in a perfect peace,
But Amber, your girlhood hero DIED.
Can’t you bear to briefly weep?