in honor of my father…

in honor of my father…

Photo by Anna Shvets on

in the presence of the sons
in the presence of the brothers
a long witness, my mother
a wife for five half score and two;
all of us here, under the all-mighty eye of g-d
to return this vessel
these building blocks
into the earth herself
for today –
I buried my father.

I did not inter love, nor thoughts
nor a lifetime of memories –
for even death, can not purge those
safe, in the deepest corridors of our hearts

those standing, those left
those knowing
for a piece of him resides within you all, now
rejoice in this, take solace in this
in time you will know this to be a guiding lantern
to purge any darkness

so I wish him farewell, for now
until we will meet again
in some other place
a dimension we do not quite yet comprehend
of this I am certain
a calm of peace has settled in
within these thoughts

goodbye, my father, for I will see you again
and thank you for the gifts you left for me
the ones you taught, in imperfection
in perfect humanity
I say goodbye to you, my father
with love – your son, always- your son.

notes… this post is one of my toughest on a personal level (obviously), I thought about not posting it, but this is what hit me @ 4am this morning, I rolled out of my non sleeping bed and wrote these words, before the funeral, the nervous energy I had was overwhelming, or was it dread? I do not know, I have not lost someone so close to me, as I have said in the past I have been lucky to be so untouched by the craven hand of death, but not so, and I knew it was coming at some point… but nothing prepares you for the reality, the customs, the going through, the physical steps to the grave site, the hole, a literal hole with a casket, the dirt in a dominant pile, the cold grip of it all, as if this was a fantasy burial, the sky was mostly blue, there was a cold wind, we were in woodbridge nj but might as well have been in the middle of anywhere, vast and wind swept, I could not speak, I thought it would take forever but as over too soon, but there is nothing you can do, except release and accept helplessness, and just turn back to those you love…

“photos” (in memorial for 9/11)

“photos” (in memorial for 9/11)

brown and white concrete building
Photo by Caio Queiroz on

every passing year, I look at the photos, the faces, listen to the somber sayings of the names, listening for the ones I know, not just names on a stone, although cold black granite serves the solemn sober nature reserved, for days like these, the stone stays as still and quiet as the solid photo poses, the lost ones, the never found, buried in that ground, time stopped there, in those footprints, in moments and long winding agonies down, forever and at once, rubble, a giant cloud of dust, time stood still to watch the towers fall as if unreal, but this was real, every day, I drive by, that skyline, my entire life the twin towers were there, but they were just buildings on a postcard, nothing more, not the photos of those lost, taken from the earth in two fell swoop, photos captured in time, of lives taken too soon, a reminder of the gentle foothold we hold on this precious earth, in an instant, a moment, that will undoubtedly fade into time and history, the names will be read, and over time the numbers will dwindle, as the greatest generation fades so too shall ground zero one day, a footnote, a lost monument but not for now, time marches on, a lifetime is just a summer song in the coming wake of winter, so sometimes we must pause in the sake of human misery, so we may remember the fallen, so we may be reminded of those here, to love one another, even if for an instance, that glimpse, those photos so silent, take action now, while your breath still allows it…

MusicFor My Fallen Angel….