I hope you’re proud of all that I’ve done
It hasn’t been easy, this road that I’m on
And I keep walking, hoping the snow will clear
A ship without a sail, no rudder to steer
It’s been two years since you’ve been gone and that’s not a lot of time
Yet I persevere in the new winds and know you guide me to calmer shores.
To wrap up National Poetry Month, I wanted to close with a poem about my dad. I did this last year and it only seems fitting that I do it again this year. For those that don’t know, he passed away in October 2019. I haven’t talked about it much since his death and poetry to me has always been a form of expression, a way to put to words topics that have been too difficult to talk about. As we head into Mental Health Awareness Month, I want to open up more and talk about his death as I think it’ll help heal the soul.
My father was a sailor for my entire life so with poems about him I want to capture that essence. There’s a lot I could have learned about sailing from him but it’s only been since his passing that I’ve found interest in it. Writing about it is a way to feel close to what has been lost.
That’s it! National Poetry Month is officially over (on this blog). We covered Nature, Love, and Lost this month. The Month of May is dedicated to Mental Health. The articles have been drafted and I’m adding the finishing touches. It’ll be a range of topics and I think I’ve struck a good balance for next month. See you then!
There was a ship lost at sea
Its destination not meant to be.
So it sailed as waters grew dark
The wind began to howl, and so swam the sharks.
When the storm passed, the horizon was left blue
Lost in the Ocean, there was nothing left that it knew.
You were the tide as the waves came to shore
And as the waves lapse, it makes me sad that I can’t see you anymore.
Your ship is now far out at sea
No lighthouse to guide you, no place to be.
Perhaps there is land beyond my horizon,
But for now, I must wait, on this sandy shore.
To end the month of April, a poem about my father. Here, I conjure up images of a life that was never meant to be, of a past best left forgotten. My father was a sailor for most of his life, taking to the sea to escape the realities of everyday life. I never was one much for sailing but can understand why my father loved it so much. There is something freeing about being on the open water, an experience I yearn for as I try not to be trapped by the mundane. My father passed away in 2019 so this is my ode to him. It is a poem about longing for what cannot be, as I stand on sandy shores looking out to sea. It speaks to my admiration of my father as a child, what now seems so distant a memory. Lighthouses guide lost ships that cannot find harbor, and the tragedy lies in that my father drifted too far out to sea.
If I had stayed, where would I be?
Would my life have been an Ocean, my joy from the sea?
Or would flowered meadows have grown dark?
Devoid of life, lost of spark?
If I had stayed, would you have cared?
Or would I have been left, forgotten, to the creeping night?
Entombed, exhausted, succumbed to your inescapable blight.