MindfulnessA Poem by dashpat a poem about my father. image: 1969 camping trip with dad and brothers MINDFULNESS = an awareness of your toddler’s whereabouts when you are practicing your golf swing. IT RELATES to fasting, not wasting foodstuffs. Drinking, not driving. A small gift for your child’s teacher. A fragrant rose. My father was mindful. MINDFULNESS My father comes to mind. He did not gift. Instead, he fixed Your bicycle or Quoted you accurately. Something you said walking away years before. He invented solutions Other dimensions For invisible folk. Joined with them at meetings circling counter clockwise accomplishing nothing so they were not alone. He was consistent and unconventional His intensity so sensitive so thoughtful it embarrassed me. I have not met anyone who worked harder. He told me the truth. He’d save our mom first If a fire engulfed our house. He let us play with fire! Dangerous fire-god games. He sent me a note The day I wrecked the car. It said: “don’t ignore injury Kimberly, If you have pain.” He delivered meals, He built houses, He volunteered his time His concentration and skills. When he laughed which was rare Sarcasm was absent He was not witty. His simplicity his sadness his failures Were there. He punched a boy once Who bullied my brother. An anarchist original Who questioned authority. He did not discriminate. He cleaned up the kitchen After supper Every night So my mom could sit down And finish her meal. If I came to my father Found him out in the garage Sweating profusely Profanities allowed His attentiveness To my problems Was like worship. He listened carefully. And I cannot remember an instance an answer of “no” © 2018 dashpat |
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1 Review  Last Updated on January 6, 2018 |
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