Look Within!

 

My Dad had a bad day and died. He believed

in God, so I prayed because he obeyed his

faith that he’d find his reward in heaven, if

there was such a place.

 

He got no compensation nor answers for his

prayers or good deeds since birth, while serving

his time on Earth.

 

Showered with evil tribulations in the image of his

wife and kids who treated him like an indentured

servant sent from above to take care of them.

 

Looking down, he must have squirmed when my Mom

chose his successor to ease her pain. An Indian Man

from Canada who slurred when he spoke because he

drank too much.

 

“Better than shit on a stick,” she’d say when asked

why she made such a choice. I never tried to see

beyond his exterior to see what made him a man.

 

He too died and left my mother alone. I helped remove

his belongings and found his manuscripts written in

script that any calligrapher would aspire to.

 

Not knowing that death waited at his door, he wrote

the language of his tribe that had never been put on

paper before in explanatory language so clear even

I understood it.

 

Was this a gift from above in the name of love, showing

me what I see and perceive isn’t what’s really there, and

to never simply rely on what I see and to look inside

for the capsule of the mind that I always left behind?

 

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