My dad is a writer who usually sticks to earthy, spiritually-yearning prose. But this small poem he wrote “for Linda” is a gem, and I am so grateful to be able to say that it’s all true, what’s written here. Please, read on and say a prayer of thanks.
Here we are with our children
Almost completely gone
And we wonder:
Is this house a home
And who are we without them?
For me it’s easier, to be sure,
My dear wife and friend,
Because you are a nurturer of all things:
Flowers, wild birds, mongrel dogs,
And not only children.
On the other hand, I am a mere man.
Still, I am not so different from you:
Longing for a home
We truly made one together
And it has been good.
When I was younger but all grown up
Like our own children are now,
I was too old for mother and father
But yearned for a sanctuary in the midst
Of all the craziness and toil.
Before you, it was only me,
And then it was us,
But it felt just like home
With only you and me and God,
That unbreakable cord of three strands.
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