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Gone into space
He had a barrel chest that would heave when you hugged it.
Try to lace your fingers around his back to feel how rugged.
His heart was too big for this place, and so he's gone into space.
It bloomed like a sunflower stretching up high.
It bloomed like a firework longing to fly.
You could watch that chest heaving on a Sunday afternoon.
After a meaty roast dinner and football induced swoon.
His glasses would be perched on the tip of his nose.
Beneath the full eyebrows he must frequently mow.
His heart was too big for this place, and so he's gone into space.
You can ask him a question but stand awhile right by.
He might mumble and grumble but won't open his eye.
The belly would move up like a big ocean swell.
It was soft and warm to the touch like a sun-bathed grass dell.
Even when awake he appeared deep in thought.
Ask the question again you'll receive a piece, then nought.
A sentence being something for him difficult to finish.
As if his mind was swept off by a current of some wish.
Did he know the anwers for the worlds deepest fears?
Did he possess the salve for the deepest wounds from the years?
His heart was too big for this place, and so he's gone into space.
Could he solve the riddle of pyramid or sphynx?
Could he derive the equations of the grand unification jynx?
Maybe not, but his blue eyes were growing quite deep.
Through our tears we could see fifty plus years they did keep.
Back to a time in the country when all was just right.
When mom was cooking dinner and Dad the preaching light.
When tow-headed boys could swim, fish, and run.
To fight with his brother 'til the setting of the sun.
To sing in the glee club in the eighth grade.
And in the church choir with a sister named Maid.
To run and climb over teaberry hill.
To discover the rocks where snakes slither and spill.
Pieces of a life that have vanished and gone.
Small pieces he took when he flew far beyond.
His heart was too big for this place, and so he flew into space.
He would stand in the pulpit decked in his robes
To give us a lesson from Isaiah, Ruth, or Job.
I lived in that church pew every Sunday
And could shift for comfort on the wood any which way.
As a boy I drew on the bulletin smelling of ink.
While all the while I sang and later to think.
My Father's voice in the back all along
My Faher's clear voice at the head of each song.
Soon Kid's Bible stories I could read in that pew
Still I would draw, but I'd crack that bible too.
Through all the din, and the voice of my mind
My Father's calm voice seeps through all the time
He was frail as a human can be
I remember many times his red face when angry.
And the clear voice that led off each hymn
Could make quite a racket when boys committed a sin.
I can still feel the tears running down my cheek
On a day near Christmas when his anger did break.
The palm of his hand not so hard on my rear
As the regret in my soul soon to appear.
And I believed sometimes it's true when they say
Son this hurts me more than you that day.
Because my Dad saw the fears on my face
And he grabbed me with his strong arms and pulled me in place.
He showed me the way to an island of peace and life
My Father saving me from a torrent of strife.
From the water he tasted, that refreshed his soul
He dipped and offered to me from the same bottomless hole.
For he had met the One who leads to that well
It never runs dry, the root of its source, no man can tell.
It's a spring that's a secret, but everywhere to be found
A spring from above, not spurting underground.
Something like that spring in the Adirondacks, Like a place from a dream
The water so sweet, so cool, and so clean.
I'm sure I could lead you there to this very day
I can taste that cool water moistening my hard clay.
He led us there over black water, past the greens
So strong was his memory of the puddle barely seen.
Many times I believe that God gave him a gift
Even though so hastily from this earth did he lift.
I'm thankful that he gave me all he could ever give
Memories of Love, and friendship as long as I live.
A body he gave me not so strong but sufficient
A voice that is both, a joy in worship proficient.
A chance to love the best of this world and the next
The rocks and the trees, the water and finally the stars, from bible text.
Now I know I was one ot the reasons he lived
That a life such as this can continue to give.
I hope and I pray that I'm prepared for the fight
From the city on a hill shedding the world all it's light.
As I contemplate now all the words that we shared
That he admired and loved me for the gifts God had spared.
And I know, I say certainly
He really loved me, yes he really loved me.
And I want to speak Spanish, German, to write and to preach
I lack some of the same strengths that he couldn't teach.
But know I can feel deep inside of me
He'll always be there, He's the root of my tree.
I know the lusts that seeped under his skin
I know the ire that led him to sin.
But behind all these things I hope I can see
The best that he gave me was deeper than a tree.
For the tree that he looked to was a blood stained cross
Where those faults like skin wrinkles, so numerous, were lost.
May I take it up as he did our spiritual insurrection
All the Life he gave me was from Jesus' resurrection.
