Out of the Wild Blue

Tribute to my Dad.

Far from the coal mines of Sagamore,

far from the little house on Church Street,

a blue heron soars high above the waters of Lake Hamilton.

His arena the sky, his republic the green and blue vistas

far as the eye can see, he heads northward, tipping

his wing as if to acknowledge our wonder.

His words are his very presence, his statements

the elegance filtered through eons of selection.

No words are spoken, yet he speaks to us nonetheless:

 "I am one of many, yet I am unique; I hold pockets

  of air beneath my wings, and I am proud;

  long after I am gone you will see

  horizons I have seen, and breathe the air I have breathed;

  my crossing is my very being, and with me, today

  and tomorrow, towers with uncounted hearts

  the power and beauty of love."

Author's Note

I wrote this tribute for my Dad, and read it at his funeral.

Reviews

[JENY]

A very touching poem…..
It is really…an apt tribute….
To one’s father…

[emmajoy]

'His arena the sky, his republic the green and blue vistas
far as the eye can see, he heads northward, tipping
his wing as if to acknowledge our wonder.' ...

Yours was a wise and wonderful dad.

A great and loving tribute

[Quaddeth]

This reminded me of the poem I read at my Nan's funeral. It will always be the case that the best poems are the ones that only turn a profit of self-medication. I really enjoyed the phrase "His arena the sky, his republic the green and blue vistas" as it expresses the power of your father around you, his ever-presence, i'm sorry to hear about your father but with poetry like this my guess is you will get through out on the other side just fine into those euphoric, beautiful pastures. Thanks for the read.

[Desert Dreamer]

Beautiful writing...we are all like this blue heron, unique, speaking with "his very presence".