for
my Father
Written and performed by John Forbis
The pulse I may not always hear
but it is there, a part of me
in my blood, always present,
always comforting.
Soothing hisses of water smooth
the sand leaving behind only
little holes through which
the tiniest of creatures breathe.
You look at the sea as if
you understand it,
its motion, its many expressions
just below the surface.
You look at the sea as if
you are kindred spirits
and so you are.
You were always as constant.
Coming home from school,
from work, from our own lives,
you always remained
keeping the cycles, drawing us home.
In all the surprises,
disappointments, triumphs,
always the rocking,
the breeze and whisper of sand.
When I am entangled
in the mechanical, metallic pace,
I can remember you
walking next to the sea,
your slow, long strides,
giant feet in the cool, fiery sand,
the sun revealing its last array
of colours as it sinks into its luxurious rest.
You were also tempted
by the relentless pace
of the offers of
a lifetime.
And yet, you simply walked away,
the ocean rolling onward
drawing you back
to the moist sand,
your arms open wide,
hair swept and shirtsleeves
flapping in the wind,
receiving all that already is.
That lesson will always be with me,
maybe in glimpses,
snatches of memory
like fragments of shells,
but they will always
be washed onto
the shore again,
the pelicans and gulls calling above.
And the wind will ride
every wave, inviting me
to believe in what you believed in,
in all there needs to be.
