A Father's Lullaby

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Slipping gently into dreams

The infant sleep on his father's chest

And matching movements of their eyes

See a group of mourners gathered.

As dirt seals in the fathers grave

'neath a weeping willow in a shady glen

And now the child is a man holding infant son

With a wreath and teardrop marks the site

As he sadly thinks of this very dream

He had to the sound of his fathers heart.

Their black grab blows in the sun-kissed breeze

As they turn their backs on the silent tomb

And their tears fall from a lesser height

As the weight of sorrow bows their heads.

The gone and the living merge in thoughts

Each through their piece of chosen time

All Parts of a life that now grows cold

And the man - both a child and a father- hears

The voice of ages softly speak

With the love and the sound of his father's heart.

On day grieving you will see

My body laid to rest

Let not silence reign your soul.

Hear these wards you know my son

The line of love is in your charge

As burden and as guide

And strength will come from this memory

To speed you on renewal's path

A cleansing and purpose born

To carry on your shoulders high

This dream that we share that I first had

As I slept to the sounds of my father's heart.