My Father’s Sweet Morning Song

In my waking dream 

My father’s sweet morning song

Still lingers softly

What words might he croon

As I cradle this sadness

This powerlessness 

Inconsolable 

Grief threatens to consume me

With each breath, praying

For the cessation

Of all hate, all suffering

All hearts full with love

Looking to the stars 

Pondering the weight of hate

Wishing it away

I feel his poems 

Rise in me with the new day

Glad he was my dad