After an inspirational weekend listening to poetry by Malcolm Guite, as well as a very important discussion with a friend of mine on the current opinion on fatherhood in our country, I was moved to write something like this over the last few days but was unable to put it to page until now. Here it is:
My child I sing for you when sun is spent
And watch for signs you know I long to see
Your face in joy but now our fam’ly rent
By slander crumbles ashen around me
They say I’ve gone and yet I’m here my voice
Echoes in vain beneath celebrity
And news “Fathers are dead” worship her choice
She is all, all alone, wives cannot be
For husbands gone, banished to forgotten
Lore for children ridiculous and lost
“Throw them all out! The good and the rotten.”
Oh generation you know not the cost
You’ve cut down the tree that shades the sapling
Vessel, half made, only emptiness brings
-M. Scott Cain
