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(my father's lament)



I couldn't have known

how I would react to

the news that after

all this time...



He had a shelf-life.



I mean, everyone warned

him that no matter how

much you try, pickling

is something best left

for cucumbers and corned

beef.



But in life,

as in all things,

we must find balance.



He gave up, I'm told.

I want to judge him

and harshly so.  For

this is God's greatest

gift this...life.



To waste it and then

run out on yourself...



Unspeakable.



I guess that's the

penalty paid...and not

even in full...for our

folly.



Can there be redemption

in defeat, as there is

peace in humility?



There are those who know.

But they ain't talkin'.

For in the life after "fuh sho"

we keep on walkin'.

Until that day when hear

the trumpets blow.



He was just a man.

And I, the product of his seed.

Now I am, just a man.

His life, the message, that I must heed.



A father's heart.

And sisters tears,

tell the tale

of broken years.



No daughter born,

an unwanted child,

the heart regrets,

it's guilt its guile.



All others first,

before your's borne,

no father's love,

is like your own.



It is in the end,

the seeds you sow,

do find you out,

for we all know,

time tells all,

we've but to wait,

so in kindness live,

to pad your fate.



Every man knows the reason we live.

It is in his heart to know this truth...

that all is vanity,

for as we return to the elements prime,

though joy preceeds our arrival,

sorrow follows our departure.



And in the accounting,

all that was truly important...was love.