Father
poetry by Lee Hansen
Lee is the internet and newsletter coordinator for MLA. He has attended the Art of Leadership Training
Program, Summer and Winter Spirit Camps, led the 2008 Colorado Winter Spirit Camp, and is enrolled in
the facilitator apprenticeship program. Lee is senior marketing manager for a computer chip manufacturer,
and separately runs a website creation business - Lumpy Productions. He is a husband and father, musician
and composer with a self-released CD of music titled "Strange Days". |
|
Perched on the stool he sits
Intensely concentrating
crouched over a tiny propeller
that’s ready to fly him away
Off to that mythic land
where all sons are perfect
and all fathers forgiven
Leather skin covers his wounded heart,
now an armor to shield against pain
Freckled arms are tiny checks,
counting the days he worked as a child.
Grey straw hair,
fading ears,
curled fingers.
Age overtakes this manchild
so carefully painting imitation oil streaks
upon his model plane.
Time was, not so long ago
rage would have roused me,
driven me from this room,
far into the night, to curse this gentle giant
so diligently caressing a piece of plastic,
when he can’t caress me.
Today, however
as I watch time march over him
I can hear its footsteps behind me,
and as I glimpse this happy elder boy engrossed
I can see my own reflection of joy.
and I am reminded again
that since there is no perfection
in this world we share,
then there can only be forgiveness.
Lee "Kimja" Hansen
February, 97
|
|
