Posted by Wamuhu Mwaura on January 7, 2010 at 10:37pm
I have struggled, father,since the conclusion of your account,and most times, when my eyes openedupon dreadful way stations, skin stretchedtight over a belly rounded by new life,hope seemed like forgotten lore,a tale vaguely remembered from early yearsspent in the company of eternal dreamers.but hope is surprisingly resilient,and has no predetermined finale,believers will carry it with themunto planes intangible to mortal fleshand will be born and reborn upon thisthe realm of our existence, returnedto those of us who have lost faithby wielders of infinite possibility,fragile vessels conceived of obligedprocreation, of dutiful continuance.o father, do not doubt, the long yearshave returned hope to me, embodiedin progeny much labored for—son who isnow as a sapling, limbs long and bare,fresh; daughter who is as the essenceof simplicity and delight, what glory—and misery be damned! take flight andgo you to reaches beyond, I'll suffer younot for even one sunrise more!and father, I forgive you the long years,I forgive your abandonment of me while stillI moved through the haze of youth,know that you were as to me a mountain,all that held me together while youwere still alive.
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