My Father’s Home
Luke 15:11-32
Younger he, scion of thorn
Brought forth disdain and raised my bile
From the day did he abourn
Into our midst, he, filled with guile,
Soiled our nest with squalling needs
That sprouted, wild, like rampant weeds.
Resentment breeds, took root, then grew
Hard within,
Sore of thought,
My noisome stew.
My care for him more mimic’d hate
Though his for me, unlike my own,
Deigned not reciprocate,
Eye for eye, bone for bone.
Adoration, undeserved,
Did fall aside, unrevered,
And caught my scornful petulance.
Disdainful words,
Disdainful deeds
So did I voice my dissonance.
I must admit resenting him,
My brother, who, with charm and guile
Did cause to bend unto his whim
Friend and family with but a smile.
He wanted much, too much, I thought
Yet Father would deny him naught,
Conferred on him those gifts so dear:
His love,
His grace,
Fell fallow-heart and austere.
As I recall his fleeting span,
How woven into hearth and home
His eager zest, carefree élan
Precluded first his wont to roam.
I envied his beatitude
All the while misunderstood
His days and dreams;
Too soon,
Too late,
And defiled his schemes.
He cared not to learn the ways
Of household, home, and fertile field
Yet misspent his youthful days
In ventures vain that bore no yield.
I called him ‘wastrel’ in contempt
(Worse insults I nightly dreamt
To heap upon my sibling bane)
As choler~germs
And rancor~shoots
Barely guised my spiteful pain.
Their clash I watched from far apace,
This mounting storm of brother’s will
‘Gainst flowing cloud of Father’s grace
Enscribing there green codicil.
Epithets rent holes in time
Carving out a paradigm
That rendered dear the kindred clan
Into the deep,
Abysmal deep;
Diluvian.
He left our stead ‘mid vicious words
That tore and sundered Father’s heart
Much as would sharp carrion~birds;
Such had become his baleful art.
I spent no grief at his farewell,
As went our wayward infidel.
I watched to see his promenade:
Step by step,
Stride to stride,
Until at last his form did fade.
Father stood at roadside gate
Longing after absent son
Knowing full he must wait
Being our own paragon.
His head was bowed, his spirit bleak,
A crystal tear traversed his cheek,
Fell to the ground
Marking sorrow,
Mourning’s pain,
Heart undone, stems icebound.
Father came to me that night,
Entreating after my own grief;
I’d not the heart to voice my plight
Nor share with him my secret chief,
That of my utmost selfish sin:
I grieved not my younger kin.
He held me close within his arms
Sheltered soul,
Sequestered heart,
Gainst’ vagaries and harms.
Servants speak of what has been,
Set aside the tambourin;
Weep the loss of almost~kin,
Behold the glyphs so sibylline:
Mene tekel upharsin.
Winter rain, summer climes
Slipped uncaring through my days.
Suns to moons, pliant times;
Disguised my own iniquities.
Yet my heart ached for his grief;
A son lost to lusts’ dark thief.
My Father’s sorrow
Barren,
Palled,
Revokes today and the morrow.
Ashen dusk to misted dawn
Stands the Father, woebegone;
Trodden path, his Rubicon,
Watching, watching for his son.
Nature’s docket, recondite
Bade us all, “Come tend the field.”
Wheat and barley, harvest~white,
Olives, vineyards full with yield.
Cattle, oxen, sheep and goats
Feeding, tending, shearing coats
Day and night, consumed our measure,
Span and
Spell,
Allotted treasure.
Autumn cedes, hibernal cloak
Succors not our daily press
‘Til wisps of chillfrost hard awoke
Unto his mind a deliquesce ~
Winter signaled bitter tear;
Father’s son now gone a year.
Grief parlayed a hardened guise,
So harsh,
So bleak
His sacrifice.
Dawn’s grey break to ev’ning’s flight,
Father tarrys, pathway’s end;
Hopeful for a bolden sight,
A penitent’s descend.
Hope once dashed yet prevailed,
His hope persists, unassailed.
Devoted Father does not wane
Perseveres,
Quiet tears,
Despite the pain.
Febrile dusk to waxen dawn
Finds my Father in despond;
Road ahead seeks encomion,
He watches, waiting for his son.
As for me, I have no care
To see my brother’s lively eyes.
My heart is hard, my soul, ‘tis bare.
Despite my Father’s mournful cries.
Yet Father’s sorrow damps my soul.
To see Him bear grief’s weighty toll
Amends my aim;
My thoughts,
Inured …
Yield to flame.
Shall I be found to be unjust?
Perchance, but I yet adjure
And so aver that I mistrust
This legacy of cynosure,
For Father’s faith and love steadfast
Against my own is unsurpassed
Leaves me torn and fracture~frayed,
Disjointed
Perplex,
Wildly disarrayed.
His love’s become the paradigm
With which I cannot contend;
A paltry tarnished pantomime ~
The most of which I apprehend.
Self-trapped within my brittle pride ~
That spavined hag bold astride,
I bow and serve that toothless dame;
Beget
Regret
To lasting shame.
My daily work compels my toil,
Posts my chagrin far at bay;
The constant call of beast and soil,
My relentless pri~cachet.
“It must be done,” my one excuse;
Such does my lie seduce
My heart, my mind to persevere
To tend,
To keep
Avoidance’ bandoleer.
And yet, and yet, love’s siren call
Erodes my soul; corundum teeth
Gnaw durance’ arsenal
From on high and from beneath
To mold my heart to Father’s creed
From my own mere mustardseed.
But what of him, my nemesis?
Returning soon?
Abiding long?
How to heal my sinfulness?
Vibrant dusk to sparkling dawn
Reveals my Father, pale and wan;
Long days behind, dreams near gone,
He hopes and yearns for his son.
Every morning, Father guards,
Searching roadways far and gone;
Every eve, He gives regards,
Returning always woebegone.
No tears are shed, no grief expressed;
Spent long ago from broken breast,
Yet hope’s not spent nor does it wane;
Whiling,
Waiting,
Gainst’ fate’s dread bane.
Star~lit dusk to fallow dawn
Inscribe my Father’s enchiridon;
Dread nights have passed to halcyon ,
Watching, wanting for his son.
Then one day, as would be known,
Horizon broke by silhouette,
A man a-falter, sore alone,
Burden-borne with deep regret.
Robe haste~wrapped, dread noumenon?
Father rushed, “Be this my son?”
It is! It is! He has returned!
Blessing!
Glory!
Rejection spurned!’
Onto their knees falls their embrace,
Blessings burst, flow free and pure;
Tears and laughter dissolve disgrace.
Forfeits primogeniture,
Stillborn, lifeless, in the dust;
In its place, naught but disgust.
I leave them to their reverie,
Clinging,
Clutching,
Kyrie.
Rejoicing, Father’s voice rings clear,
“ Summon servants! Prepare a feast!
Strike the fires! He is here!
Invite all, from great to least!
My son was lost but now he’s found!
Bring the robe! He shall be gowned!
My signet ring, with all good speed,
Rejoice,
Rejoice,
He’s alive, alive indeed!”
Guests did revel all the night
With songs and dance, food and drink;
While all enjoyed the eve’s delight,
My rancor flourished, black as ink.
Deep resentment, hard and strong,
Barred me from this joyous throng.
I tread the fields with angry feet
Mid melody
And enmity,
My appalling self~deceit.
Father came to see me there,
Sullen-lipped as I did brood,
A wheatfield’s gallant chevalier
Defending sparse ingratitude.
“Son, my son, come eat, come sing,
Your brother’s glad homecoming
Has brought me joy and happiness,
I smile,
I laugh;
Life’s no longer meaningless.”
Crimson flared within my soul;
“I cannot come, I will not share
Your grand guignol,
Your callow heir ~
For he’s no place within my life;
Bearing only bitter strife.
All these years I’ve slaved for you,
Working,
Straining
And he gets your intaglio!
“The fatted calf you now have slain,
Requital for abandonment,
While I have naught but pain
Cast from your acknowledgment.
Relegated solitude, banishment beget
Sad sheaves of bitter gall, my vain Kismet.
He squanders wealth the while I toil
In barn,
In press,
In field and soil.
“Ne’er a goat you gave to me
To celebrate with maids and friends.
No robe, no Terpsichore
To grant me peace or make amends.”
No longer can I express
Overwhelmed with sore distress,
I faltered, to my knees I fell,
To weep,
To sob,
Abased in living hell.
With disregard of dissonance,
Our Father kneels beside;
Weeping in sad consonance,
His love can’t be denied.
His healing words do now console,
His arms enfold my shattered soul,
“I love you, Son, my light of day,
Your worth,
Your life,
I cannot weigh.
“E’er with me, my companion blest,
My wealth, my treasure, yours to own.
I so regret your deep unrest,
Blood of blood, bone of bone.
Forgive, I plead, my blind neglect,
My disregard, my bale abject.
Forgive me, Son, my care’s decline,
My loss,
My bane;
So undivine.
“But think on this, beloved one:
Despite his loss, presumed demise,
He was adored, no less my son,
His glistening hair and shining eyes
I’d ne’er forget, no less than yours,
And your precious cynosures.
Once was dead, but now is found,
He lives,
He lives,
My joy’s unbound!
“Forgive my lapse, this I pray;
In loving each beloved son
Needs must I now convey
A grant of full benison
Upon your very mind and heart
And bind us, once again, to part
Ne’er again throughout our life
To heal,
Restore,
Wounds wrought by strife.”
My Father’s words deep-touched my soul
While shame brought me to my knee
Yet freed my binding from Sheol
And the torment of its fury.
Joyous freshets, cascade of tears
Forever banished are my fears
Forgive me, Father, I have sinned
‘Gainst my brother,
‘Gainst your son;
My rancor I must rescind.”
Father asked a ‘durant boon ~
“Forgive your brother, this my plea.
No longer pressed to impugn,
God’s grace now sets you free.
Go to him, bend your knee,
Blending two heart’s perigee.”
Turning ‘bout, I see him stand;
Embrace,
Then falls
False Samarkand.
His arms about me, gladness soared
Peace again; now I can breathe.
Reconciled, my heart’s reward;
Love surrounds, His bequeathe.
“Brother mine, forgive my wrath
I’ve trod too long the beaten path.
That’s led astray,
To pride,
To want;
‘Tis time to pray.”
Shepherd-Father’s blessed hand
Meets all together as is planned;
Through the seasons we shall stand
As all respond to His command.
Grace bestowed, blest are we
To give our thanks, our praise to thee.
Love~Creator, Sentinel,
Here,
With us,
Emmanuel.
My Father came to take his rest.
“Rejoice, my heart, within my breast!
Wholeness comes, divine bequest;
My Sons are home. I am blessed.”
Amor vincit omnia.
My Father’s Home