For M.A.S.

I watch the calm water ebb and flow Like time trickling at my naked, tired feet I feel the passing of things I know And my heart is bereft with love's defeat You felt the tug of the wind and left me Before I was willing to let you go And there is only a brown stain to show An empty carpet gaping up at me. Mikhail, again and again I dream If only I had done this, or that way Think, or day light gave me just a gleam Of your fate that I could cause disarray To whatever purpose made this divide And made a father suddenly so gray And dim the light of hope's forever day While sorrow ebbs and flows with gall and tide My son, my son, deaf the ears of life And mute eternity when now I call How sharp in me turn and turn the knife How helplessly a young fruit may fall And leave a barren tree, or gnarled my heart Most of all, with all your rich prospects gone Nor any to replace you, my dark dawn Begets the thorn and life just falls apart. So the little scholar is no more My science genius, my business star No longer races me to the shore Or play here, or write the healing of scar And shame against a race most noble name Like morning mist vanishes with the sun Or grass or flower when their time is done So went you from me, and I'm not the same. Your heart was my heart and we were one You were my only castle against the cold Your dream was my dream, you were my son The giver of mirth to the fractured fold You made the world believe, and love endure What right that death should take a life so young Or fate keep silence now with barren tongue Or we no better than leaves I stand among? Did God breathe breath in dust just for this That I once born forever dies, and dead Cancel his purpose, do we exist Like a game played, like a bright dream fled Which neither reason nor scheme can recall And like the leaves that shrine my dusty feet Forget you only when I rot complete Or must we pass before to hear his call? Death is so vulgar, death is so rude Death is so brutal and parting us vile To dare on our sweetest times intrude And make us common mulch in common soil Even my boy, my pride, my joy aflame The one at trumpet blow I wait to see Death took you, and nothing shall comfort me Except to hear the angel call your name.