Happy Birthday, Beloved
I have never come here
because I was sure I wouldn't find you,
but now that I have arrived
this silent autumn's garden
makes me feel you may be around
I don't hear your steps
like a lost tired ghost
or see your shining transparence
or listen to a whispered voice.
No, I can't feel hot or cold
or any creeping sensation.
It is just that when I read your name
in this clean and clear marble
and saw your black and white picture
where you appear so young, so healthy,
(I had chosen it myself)
when this silence invaded my soul
and the image of this garden
brought me the memories
of your happy and strong steps
through the grass of our house,
and these memories came so alive
I knew you were at my side
Well, what to do?
I sit in this nearby grave
and lay down on your lap
waiting for the old peace to come.
Dad, is it true
that you have talked to my brother
and that you have helped him?
Is it true that he has asked
and that you have answered?
I was the one who used to believe
in such unbelievable things, remember?
And yet I hadn't come here before today
for I was sure I wouldn't find you.
As you can see dad, I changed my mind.
I changed my faith and so did my way
two seconds after your leaving.
I was supposed to be the strongest
I am ashamed of my weakness
Would you forgive me, my father?
Could you?
I felt lost, dear
I felt angry, and I felt alone
I hated God, I hated to be alive.
Now that I have come
and that you are here . . .
I can see my wasted life
Not anymore, my love
Not anymore, heavenly God
Eat this marshmallow pie I brought
and let's enjoy your birthday.
Thank you for bringing me back
to the good old times
and o.k., Mr. Silly
for next year, strawberry pie.
Patrícia Evans
Copyright © Patricia Henriques | Year Posted 2007
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment