written for Father’s day, June 2007
Papa went to foreign lands
to walk a mile
in foreign sands
he tried to teach men
right from wrong
but found his cry
for God in song
He opened his heart
to dream a great dream
and his dream did
swallow him whole
so it seemed
Some men sit in places
where shadows grow long
and wonder inside
about what could have been
but papa moves heaven
as he carries his song
and looks on in wonder
at all he has seen
Never did he ask
what the cost might be
or consider more than once
what loss he might see
for his life was indeed
not his own
I am the son of a dreamer
and a product of change
with a new road to follow
as i look for my name
I’ve tried out these limbs
on the road he has travelled
and have found our stride
not the same
I have watched from afar
as he shoulders his load
and looks for a right arm to hold
and i grieve a great sorrow
that i’m not within reach
and my strength is not
his to borrow
Some days I feel
I have lost a great friend
yet somehow i am proud of this pain
and yet it still is so hard
and yet is still is my joy
how do i laugh and cry
like I did as a boy?
I hope it is strength to his frame
as he walks sunset trails
to know that his son
has been blessed by his hand
and will ever be proud
to carry his name