Poem About my Father
A Child’s View
Written by Laura Maaske, MSc.BMC, Medical Illustrator & Medical Animator
I am 5 or 6 years old or maybe 10 or 12.
My dad stands
Silently at the open door
His hands entwined behind him.
He’s looking out
His black silhouette holds a secret reserve
Against the bright light that arches over him.
He’s watching a tree whose shadow is stretching
(or it is the moon).
I am on my way downstairs
Or I am playing under the table
I keep a recognizing distance. I hold the silence too,
Not to disturb the peace and the
The strength he is making
For himself
Standing there
In meditation
He is
dreaming or
daydreaming or
imagining something.
Flame-like leaf shadows shimmer on a screen
Pierced by a summer breeze that pets my skin
Everything in meditation
But what really happens between
My dad and the tree.
(or the moon)
Was it
A question?
A bargain?
A sacrifice?
A prayer?
A full-length conversation?
And what energy does my dad offer
To hold so capably a chunk of the world in silence there?
June 19, 2011
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Laura Maaske, MSc.BMC, Medical Illustrator & Medical Animator
e-Textbook Designer | Health Communicator | Scientific Illustrator
Dear Laura,
What a simply wonderful and loving tribute to your father!
Love, Tom
Thank you Tom! Happy Father’s Day to you!