And then, my Father found Me
I
While I remember it,
The fear
and the relief
Are with me now.
I must have been three.
Out with my father
On a teeming boardwalk,
A squat Lilliputian,
Lost in a terrifying Forest
Of towering legs.
I reached up,
Grasped my father’s hand.
And I looked up
In horror.
And the stranger looked down
In horror.
YOU’RE NOT MY FATHER!!
And then…
My father found me.
II
I am your father.
And yours.
And yours.
And yours.
You’re all the offspring
Of my lust
For existence.
And you’re all dear to me.
But…
You call me sire,
And you call me father,
And you call me dad!
Even worse,
You praise me
With palms upraised,
And you praise me
While I remember it,
The fear
and the relief
Are with me now.
I must have been three.
Out with my father
On a teeming boardwalk,
A squat Lilliputian,
Lost in a terrifying Forest
Of towering legs.
I reached up,
Grasped my father’s hand.
And I looked up
In horror.
And the stranger looked down
In horror.
YOU’RE NOT MY FATHER!!
And then…
My father found me.
II
I am your father.
And yours.
And yours.
And yours.
You’re all the offspring
Of my lust
For existence.
And you’re all dear to me.
But…
You call me sire,
And you call me father,
And you call me dad!
Even worse,
You praise me
With palms upraised,
And you praise me
With hands clasped,
And you praise me
With arms at sides!
Now, I crafted
The serene, exquisite crystal
And the red, angry lava.
I made the microbe
And the blue whale.
I made the death-dealing cobra
And the blameless butterfly
I made the peacock
In all his ecstatic iridescence
And the warthog
In all his…
In all his, uh…
Well, anyone can make
A mistake!
And I made plants
That look like insects
Insects that look like plants!
I even made fleas that have fleas!
Yes, I delight
In every difference and distinction
For they all show how limitless
Are the outpourings of my mind.
But, to be called
By different names!
That I cannot stand!
To be praised in different ways!
That I can’t abide!
Therefore, I beseech my children:
Please make war on one another.
Destroy!
The patient work of lifetimes:
Tear it down in an instant!
Rip each other’s flesh,
gouge each other’s eyes!
Be creative!
Devise unheard of tortures!
Explode bodies to the skies!
Bedeck the market place
With human entrails
And scattered limbs!
And you praise me
With arms at sides!
Now, I crafted
The serene, exquisite crystal
And the red, angry lava.
I made the microbe
And the blue whale.
I made the death-
I made the peacock
In all his ecstatic iridescence
And the warthog
In all his…
In all his, uh…
Well, anyone can make
A mistake!
And I made plants
That look like insects
Insects that look like plants!
I even made fleas that have fleas!
Yes, I delight
In every difference and distinction
For they all show how limitless
Are the outpourings of my mind.
But, to be called
By different names!
That I cannot stand!
To be praised in different ways!
That I can’t abide!
Therefore, I beseech my children:
Please make war on one another.
Destroy!
The patient work of lifetimes:
Tear it down in an instant!
Rip each other’s flesh,
gouge each other’s eyes!
Be creative!
Devise unheard of tortures!
Explode bodies to the skies!
Bedeck the market place
With human entrails
And scattered limbs!
And let my sweet earth be salted
With your widows’ and orphans’ tears!
After all, is this not
What any loving father
Would ask
Of his beloved children?
III
No. I am not your father!
I am but a smoking,
stinking idol
That you erected
To your own fear
And your self-loathing.
To your need
To paint the other
As worth nothing,
So that you feel
Worth anything
At all.
Yet,
In all this darkness,
There is another hand
That you may grasp.
It’s so simple:
Do you want to belong?
Then let the other belong.
Do you want to be forgiven?
Then forgive.
Do you want to be loved?
Then love.
And then…
Your father will find you.
© 2008 David Malin
With your widows’ and orphans’ tears!
After all, is this not
What any loving father
Would ask
Of his beloved children?
III
No. I am not your father!
I am but a smoking,
stinking idol
That you erected
To your own fear
And your self-
To paint the other
As worth nothing,
So that you feel
Worth anything
At all.
Yet,
In all this darkness,
There is another hand
That you may grasp.
It’s so simple:
Do you want to belong?
Then let the other belong.
Do you want to be forgiven?
Then forgive.
Do you want to be loved?
Then love.
And then…
Your father will find you.
© 2008 David Malin