“IT IS THE FAITH OF A CHILD KNOWING THAT HIS FATHER IS THERE…” An Indian Father Wakes An Indian father wakes Having layed there a few hours He stares at the ceiling for a long time It was early too early Sunrise hours away He couldnt sleep and didnt know why Woke at 2 and tried to watch tv Nothing to do this early, tired so tired Where is Christmas What is Christmas The spirit of Christmas What is it really He sees the innocence in his childrens eyes They share and tell each other stories About life, love and looking out for each other Their mother gives all she has for them Though she is weak and sick She loves them more than life itself A long time ago when they started out She just wanted a simple house, a car A place to call home Where is the Christmas spirit It is in theyre eyes It is not here this early No hot water for days Water heater shorted out Dont know much about electricity What is hot and cold, polarity and stuff She boiled hot water on the stove It was an old one sort of green Four cooking coils, just two worked Cooking supper his wife called out It flashed, sparked flickered and then died Now there is no hot water for the kids bath Taking cold sponge baths standing there crying Need to fix it but there is no money A leaking roof shorted it out The water heater stands there cold No money no money it is just cash It makes the world go around it makes a life Where is the home, the warm place for children The wall heaters went out two years ago So space heaters whir and the children play The work has been slow, none last week Took out an advance and his pay didnt cover it Still owes $200 to the boss two weeks before Christmas No pay day between now and then Three months rent he owes and still he tells the landlord Who stands at the door, where is my money he says His grizzled beard prickly, I need the rent money Get me something or get out he said I dont have it I dont have it Somehow you better get it Be out of here by the 1st and then left Snow snow new fallen snow like a white quilt Soft inviting and quiet the cold is hidden in it No sleep thinking about Christmas His wife sickly and not able to move around Living on potato soup, cabbage and celery Sitting there early in the middle of the night How did things get this way Wishing he were a better father You work and toil and really try Life is like that it isnt always fair He knew it he knew it No one to talk to how did it happen life works that way Just want some basic things for now Christmas is coming, Christmas is coming It didnt work out the way it was supposed to Things are bad It goes that way sometimes he says It will be better next year We will have more He listens to himself A child crys He hears them stirring The place is cold It is two weeks before Christmas But to him just another day He sits in the dark He sits in the dark Wondering about it all Wondering about it all Sitting there The boy comes to him Without a word he crawls into his fathers arms He rests there and sleeps What is this gift This small gift of life In all of this In all of this He comes to me Hold me Protect me Keep me warm Father father Sitting there Looking down Little hands Small feet Dark hair and he sleeps We go on We go on This little one My son My son In all that goes on There is one thing He lays there quietly A simple act a childs touch life goes on life goes on What is Christmas Where is Christmas It is the faith of a child Knowing a father is there To go on and on Carrying any burden Some things come to mind Grandfather I remember We have survived We have survived Long cold winters, No food No shelter In the quiet of a summer day Long ago as a small child Grandfather spoke to me There would be times like this That in those times When it seems there is no sweet water Close your eyes Listen to your heart Hear me I am in the wind I spoke with you from long ago We live in you All that was and who we were Go on with you You have survived You have survived Go on and on Go on and on In this way he spoke The father cradles his son The distant horizon brings new light Fingers stretched with pale blue light Reaching across the sky to turn pink and gold Remembering the words from long ago Like an old indian song Hozhogo Nahasdlii Hozhogo Nahasdlii In Beauty it begins In Beauty it begins There is beauty all around me There is beauty all around me There is beauty to the left of me There is beauty to the right of me There is beauty above me There is beauty below me There is beauty to the front of me There is beauty to the back of me I walk in Beauty I walk in Beauty Let it be so Let it be so In Beauty I am restored In Beauty I am restored all this because of the faith of child knowing that his father will be there when he wakes up... for John Atchiko and his son...
Posted on: Sat, 05 Apr 2014 18:14:20 +0000
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