The Heart Failure Poems (for Mia and Gwen): Poem I
3.17.16
In my time of dying,
I see you in future days:
My girls.
I see you glowing
On a tree-lined street,
Looking back at me:
The father-left-behind.
The autumn leaves are golden,
And they swirl around your hair.
You’re both older now:
My triumphant twins.
Mia, you scrunch up your face
And plunge headlong ahead,
Because you know what makes leaves
Swirl around young women’s hair.
You know the stuff of science,
So focusing on the leaves
Would be a nuisance
And a waste of time,
As you plunge headlong ahead,
Content to stretch toward
What may come.
But sometimes you look back
And see me waiting
For your look,
Perhaps in another dimension,
Perhaps in your memory
Of the first time you
Fell asleep on my chest,
And we breathed together,
As only a father and daughter can.
You were so young and fragile,
But even so, I could imagine you
On a future autumn afternoon,
Walking fearless and unimpeded,
But unafraid to look back
In full knowledge that I helped
Set you in motion
With my beating heart,
No matter how damaged it was.
You, Mia, are my strength,
My trust, my security,
My love.
You will endure.
Gwen, I feel the essentials
Of my being pulsing in your veins.
You notice, in that future autumn,
The beauty of each leaf
As it whirlwinds around your head.
Like your big sister,
You look back,
But with a concerned look
For me
That you can’t hide,
Despite all your best efforts.
You plop down on the street,
Feeling my gaze,
Which will never leave you,
And draw
A sketch of a single leaf
That’s so intricate,
So beautiful and true
That God appears
In the details.
And what is God but love?
And what are we
But points of eternity
In the timeless complexity
Of love’s intricate leaf?
I’m in your sketch,
Just as you’re in this poem:
My pixie rebel,
My Alice,
Who’s just beginning to discern
That life is a Wonderland.
Follow your inner rabbit,
My daughters:
Embrace the metamorphoses
Of life’s vicissitudes.
Love: the mystery
That abides in all people and things.
And don’t let the bastards
Grind you down.
They’ll try to steal your souls,
Kill your rabbit
And cook him up as
Taco Bell meat.
Always remember:
In my time of dying,
And long after you can’t see me,
I’m wavering steadfastly
In that autumn wind.
Look back at me, yes,
But not too often.
The road is open before you.
I am the road,
The leaves through which you pass
And sketch,
The rabbit that you chase.
In my time of dying,
You’re my heart,
Rejuvenated and true:
A compass to guide you
As you plunge
Headlong and fearless.
Remember me,
But not too often
And only as needed.
Life is for the living.
You are my mortality
And my immortality
In my time of dying.