On the Death of My Father Lawrence Anthony Gebera on my Birthday
The Desert and the Gift of the World
You were not present when I was young.
You, as was my mother, were not good at parenting.
Each, alone, was a decent soul.
To others good;
for the two you made – a desert.
Had you each the loyal hand
Of one another and,
The strength of two in gold, or
Good parents of your own –
How much better life would have been for us.
Your walk away was guilt.
I did not harm you.
The parent begins a battle
The child is left behind.
For years your good deeds
For others was atonement
A life of attempted battle against perceived wrongs
You were just a man
One human being after another
Makes his own mistakes.
Is entitled to them by existence.
With none more grievous than
Any other, merely existing as a state.
I see you, and always have,
As just what you are.
A product of other’s harms
And, having made a few mistakes yourself,
Sought constant solus in good deeds.
You are lost now
You did not reach out your hand to me
But it was there for you with just a whisper.
Your deeds brightened others, and
Us being all one earth
Made the world better each day.
A sunrise to mankind.
A seed to each sparrow.
Gentle stroke to each furred friend.
Thank you for your gift to each.
You brought me to the world on this day.
I bring you home on this same day
Twenty-Three days into a new year.
I have no anger
Only sadness at your loss
Which is my own.
Rest without guilt.
Obituary: A Tribute to Larry
Questions & Answers
© 2019 Christine Patrice Gebera