Dear Dad

It has been four years since my father unexpectedly passed away. Even though I have certainly moved on, not a day goes by that I'm not reminded of him, think about him, or speak to him. I was fortunate to write this poem a few years before he passed away. It was a Christmas present to my father. A moment I will cherish forever. More than a few tears were shed that day. This weeks blog is dedicated to my father on the fourth anniversary of his passing.








Dear Dad
by william zuback

I.

The first thing I remember
Maybe I was four
Father running by my side
Strong hands to hold
Guided by a gentle push
I gain my independence
Comforted by the rhythmic steps
Pedals turning heart still churning
Both gasping for our breath

Turning around
Dad Still there
I knew I'd never stand alone

II.

Around the age of nine or ten
Dad took on the task
Helping to build a special car
To race among the best
Made of pine and looking fine
The car sped down the track
Encouraging the car
To pick up speed
And place above the rest
But on this special race day
It did not meet the challenge
The pine car did not place
One, two, or three
Pride was the trophy
I took home from the race
Pride of a father
Who made me feel like a winner
That night

Turning around
Dad Still there
I knew I'd never stand alone

III.

Sun rises on the horizon
Of my early teenage years
Finds father and son together
Spectators of dawns first light
The headlines delivered each and every day
One by choice and one by need
We'd meet in the middle to share the seam
Every morning like a clock
Mother nature woke us up
Few spoken words at the crack of dawn
Early morning meditation the conversation
Brings us together to share the news

Turning around
Dad Still there
I knew I'd never stand alone

IV.

Young adult and full of spite
Space was given but still we'd fight
I followed a path of my own invention
Mostly wrong but sometimes right
You respected my space
With a humble grace
And let me stumble but never fall
A thousand miles of open road
Eighteen hours sharing another seam
One by choice and one by need
No lecture or advice tonight

Turning around
Dad Still there
I knew I'd never stand alone

V.

Now a father I am proud
To use the wisdom handed down
I'm reminded of you every day
And for that I love you - Dad
More and more each day

Father is the tripod
Foundation of the image
The image grows each passing year
From wisdoms past
Guided by a gentle push
I gain my independence

Turning around
Dad Still there
I know I'll never stand alone!

MERCY NOW

I had another of my always fascinating dinner gatherings with a small group of my liberal friends last Sunday. Less than a week since Obama became President Elect Obama, we obviously had a lot to rejoice about and toast. Our subject for the evening was poetry. We all had to bring a poem that had meaning in our lives. Since I don't read a lot of poetry, I chose a song that strikes a strong chord in my life at this time.

The singer/songwriter is a great musician by the name of Mary Gauthier. The song is called Mercy Now. After a bad reading of the lyrics by me, we played the song on the stereo. Check out the song on her myspace page.A great discussion developed afterward with the biggest debate being; Is mercy and forgiveness the same thing or different? I would love to hear your opinions on this. Enjoy her heartfelt music!

Mercy Now
Mary Gauthier

My father could use a little mercy now
The fruits of his labor
Fall and rot slowly on the ground
His work is almost over
It won’t be long and he won’t be around
I love my father, and he could use some mercy now

My brother could use a little mercy now
He’s a stranger to freedom
He’s shackled to his fears and doubts
The pain that he lives in is
Almost more than living will allow
I love my bother, and he could use some mercy now

My Church and my Country could use a little mercy now
As they sink into a poisoned pit
That’s going to take forever to climb out
They carry the weight of the faithful
Who follow ‘em down
I love my Church and Country and they could use some mercy now

Every living thing could use a little mercy now
Only the hand of grace can end the race
Towards another mushroom cloud
People in power, well
They’ll do anything to keep their crown
I love life, and life itself could use some mercy now

Yea, we all could use a little mercy now
I know we don’t deserve it
But we need it anyhow
We hang in the balance
Dangle ‘tween hell and hallowed ground
Every single one of us could use some mercy now
Every single one of us could use some mercy now
Every single one of us could use some mercy now

NOVEMBER

November
by william zuback

November tree limbs creak with arthritic movements
Dry and brittle, the branches scrape together
Pointing upward like knurled bony fingers, reaching to the cold gray sky
November's bitter wind resonates the muffled tapping of an elder's cane
On a frozen sidewalk balanced by the rhythmic shuffle of heavy feet
Leaves release their grip on majestic limbs
Too tired to hold on, abandoning the muscle
Cold November days mark the change of another season
A season of contrast, of black, white, and gray
Arthritic branches hum and moan in the frenzy of fall
Burdened with the heavy weight of an early snow
Hold on to the trunk, fragile limbs
Deep roots held frozen in time