Content warning:
My father was a sorrowful
if well intentioned man
with no luck
and no rapport
with the Universe
No philosopher he―
his M.O. was fatalism
and remorse
One day he asserted
“Little Man”
—this he called me even as I looked
down to meet his eyes—
“the Universe owes us nothing
yet we are at its mercy”
This contra-diction burned in my nostrils
seared my ears
“Dear Father”
I cried―looking straight into his eyes―
“I'll take Mercy
over Debt
every day”
SO
in the name
of Mercy
I wished a wish―which the Universe soon granted―
and turned my father into
A Sunflower
Nodding ever toward the Sun
heavy head
full of
Seeds of Wisdom
and
Petals of Wonder