Threnody For My Father
I laid my aching heart upon your grave
that February day when trees were bare
of life; their withered leaves fell down to brave
the chill of winter death. With you they shared
the frozen veins and blood of lifeless ground.
And tears of icy rain helped to impart
the gloom, where stillness reigned, and not a sound
was heard, except the moaning of my heart.
Then April came on pussy-willow feet
to wake the trees with leaves and budding bloom,
while thawing ground gave birth in springtime-heat
to velvet grass which hid the ashen gloom.
Now stung to life by hope in April's rain,
the golden youth of earth shines bright and new.
And so I lay my heart with winter's pain
upon this renewed life that covers you.
I stand here in the shadow of death's sting.
Oh, Dad, I feel your pulsing spirit hand.
Come lead me to your green and hopeful spring
as it was- when you walked this earthen land.
Copyright © Sandra Haight | Year Posted 2015
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