Sacrificing the Son

For Bill and his beloved Sam

Stand up tall,
chest out, voice strong
when you call the name of your son
home for the night.
This song of a father rings
long past the hour of reckoning.
You have made this call a million times
as the light leaves the sky
and twilight forces the eyes
to see the tiny remnants of far away
glimmers of a past
we can never know for sure.

The silence in your ears aches.

You know what is coming
with each howl into the pending dark—
know the pit in the core of consciousness—
that danger is right at the shoulder
of your son
whispering the loud
and raspy death call.

This is not a child’s game
of hide and seek
where anyone can play dead.
The stakes of being found
in the rocks and scrabbling bushes
are for keeps.

Flying on the wings
woven by looking fear in the face—
seeing the souls of the departed
like they are gathered friends—
gives you no comfort today.

The wide and healing ocean
is not big enough to wash you clean,
nor does it allow you to emerge
with the joy of knowing hope
in a future you cannot see.

Hold this impermanent boy
to your wide open heart one more time
and then cast him into the waters
like ashes—
the essence of who he is
will be all that this day allows you to love,
all that any day
will ever offer again.