Only This by John Forbis

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.