When I visited Dad's house in July with my brother and sister, I found this poem hanging on the bulletin board. It feels a little strange to post a poem about dying on my little baby's blog, but on the other hand, the message of this poem was one of Dad's teachings - something he can offer to us all, Mateo included. I hope Mateo can grow up with the understanding that there can be beauty and honor in ALL phases of life - including old age and death.
Autumn
Urge me to drop every leaf I don't need
Every task or habit I repeat past its season
Every sorrow I rehearse, every unfulfilled hope I recall
Every person or possession to which I cling
Until my branches are bare, until I hold fast to nothing.
Tutor me through straining night winds
In the passion of moan and pant
The gift of letting go at the moment of most abundance
In the way of falling apples, figs, maple leaves, pecans.
Show me the way of dying in glorious boldness
Yellow, gold, orange, rust, burgandy.
- Monza Noff
Happy Birthday, Dad. I continue to learn from you, Mateo will as well.
1 comments:
What a beautiful poem. Thank you for sharing that. What a lovely way to honor your father today.
Julie
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