Song for My Father
©1996 by Stella Brattin

It rained that day

A soft, gentle rain, straight down

Shrouded in somber gray light

Sodden grass, puddles of water,

small circles, spreading out, into bigger puddles.

Rain drops, long and dark

against my face, slid down

Salty tasting.

The saturated earth moaned and shuddered.

That night the stars went out

The sky was so black

I lay and listened to the silence

There was no solace.

Cries echoed in emptiness.

In the distance, the mournful song

of a freight train

Journey to nowhere

Far away, long gone.

As they say, "Life Goes On."

Why should it?

How can it?

but it does.

And morning came --

The rain had brought tiny buds up from the soil

in the garden, the 4 o'clocks of summer.

The robin in the backyard nest rearranged the eggs

and sat down again

protecting her future miniature chorus.

The first little green sprouts appeared at the tips

of the ash tree's branches

Fresh and sweet, to be spring leaves.

Canadian geese parents,

Fluffy babies bobbing between them like little corks, self-propelled

Single file on the pond

Swimming lessons.

The inevitable cycle of life

It was the greenest spring ever.

And, as the sun rose higher

I saw your Rocky Mountains

sharp against the sky

Bright white snow on the peaks

Clear blue beyond

I saw where you had been

and I knew for sure where you were --

There, in the bursts of new life from the earth and trees

in the tiny flapping fuzzy wings

of the baby robins

In the unity and grace of the geese on the pond.

There, in the softness of the spring day,

the warmth of the sunshine,

the gentleness of the life-giving rain,

As well as

with all of us who loved you,

Forever in our hearts.

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