deepundergroundpoetry.com

Father

Oh, Father, at first I don't
notice you. In the complete
newness of my life, you
fade into the background.
You are there, but
not important.
I don't realize that you
have already taken my hand.
Our journey began long before
I was aware of it.
Without my consent.
We move forward.
There is no stopping.

You move so slowly.
I can see you now and
you move so interminably slowly.
Why can't you keep up
with what I want and
where I want to go?
I'll never get there
at your pace.
I cannot stand you.
I hate that I need you.
You alone will get me what I want.
We move forward.
There is no stopping.

Somehow I lost sight of you.
You were here and then
you appeared out of nowhere
so much farther ahead than I had
anticipated. You're quite the
trickster, it seems, and I'm
uneasy at the thought. I hadn't realized
I wasn't in full control.
But there's not quite panic, because
I'm starting to get
the things you promised me.
We move forward.
There is no stopping.

You're fully in my sight now,
but I've grown comfortable
with you. Things will be
as they are right now, no
changes. This is a good pace, and
we're making headway.
Steady and reliable,
that's what you've become.
If we aren't quite friends,
we're allies.
We move forward.
There is no stopping.

This journey is getting harder.
There are obstacles in
my path, and I stumble, I fall.
You have never let go of my hand, and you
roughly jerk me up
and we continue marching. When I fall
again, you just drag me through the
mud, face-down. You move slower
here, to stretch out my suffering.
I hate you.
We move forward.
There is no stopping.

Throughout hills, valleys, plateaus,
you continue to
force me along.
And sometimes, as we keep moving,
the pain lessens.
Memories of  the mud and the
dragging grow fuzzy, and I
thank God for you, I couldn't
have made it without you.
I let you lead, more gently it seems.
We move forward.
There is no stopping.

There are
points of panic along the way.
When I realize fully
that you're in control.
I can't stop you.
I have to go with you.
You're the master here,
and I'm bound to you.
I remember being excited about you.
This isn't what I wanted.
We move forward.
There is no stopping.

You have indeed
given me gifts beyond
compare, and oh, Father,
I am grateful for them. Moments of
kindness, years of grace.
You gave them to me, and I
wonder, are they given to
distract me from the pain
of our journey?
Regardless of the reason,
we move forward.
There is no stopping.

And now we have reached
the destination. It has taken us
a lifetime, and I stand with
you at the edge of the cliff.
I'm ready, now to stop.
I just want to rest. You shake your
head and motion me.
I know, I know. This was
the point all along.
I plead with you, Please,
Father Time! But there is no reprieve.
I move forward.
Written by Istra
Published
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