Fathers Day
In moments of unbridled
Optimism and hope
Where his son was concerned,
My father would utter his
Standard pronouncement,
“You’re finally on your way, Dick.”
(I was Dick back then.)
He meant well—encouraging one
Short-lived impulse of mine after another
To attempt a more grounded
Pragmatic approach towards life.
Trust me, if you should ever have a child
Who’s a dreamer, for such a person
Dreams trump practical considerations
Nonetheless we are all always “on our way.”
Arrivals and departures
Like beginnings and endings
Being constraints language imposes, not reality
Where no one can with any accuracy locate
The precise beginning or ending of anything
And what we are belongs to a realm where there are no words
What’s important is that my father loved me
And I him and wished for me the very best.
He viewed the world differently than his son—
My odd view of things providing him
With reason for doubts and concerns.
In the end, though, it all works out, Dad.
Happy Fathers Day