In loving memory of my father, John Graham (8/22/48-7/12/19)
Drumbeat stills in the hallowed heart of the kiva
the sage settles heavy as we weave your burial shroud
threads of truth, of love, and all our misgivings
it conceals and reveals in equal measure
In the field of reeds you face each moment of a life
weighted by the dark terrors of your making
an accounting on false scales that rendered
judgments and suffering without compassion
Papa, do not let your heart be encumbered
a place has been prepared for you
all your imaginary crimes pardoned
divine light limns the dawn
reeds intone a celestial song
to transmute stone to eagle feather
Incredible tribute, heart warming. There is a touch of the Native American traditions that liven things up. 70 years is too soon; hugs sent your way.
My condolences to you. This is a moving tribute, filled with compassion, love and forgiveness.
A lovely, heart warming tribute.
My heartfelt sympathy, Anna. Your poem is a beautiful tribute to him. My dad’s anniversary is coming up in just over a week.
The drumbeat as the first word is very effective in transporting your reader to the traditional burial shroud weaving, and the final lines pick it up again in the reeds’ intonation – I love the thought of stone transmuting to eagle feather.
This was a captivating read Anna. Thank you for sharing it for OLN,
My deepest condolences to you. This is a beautiful tribute.
I like the way the ending lifts the heaviness, stone to feather. (K)
Such a loving and caring dirge. You try to reassure him even as he’s left this world.