The dense smoke rose into the air,
and with it went my prayers for my son.
He had left our burgeoning village before dawn,
hunting beaver and fox for their pelts.
I was reluctant to let him go,
but the other men convinced me
that he would be safe, and he promised me
he would not stray beyond the areas mapped.
The woods outside our village seemed dense
to my eyes, and, to my senses, cumbersome
to enter quietly as a savage hunter,
but his youth gives him powers I have not.
So, I hunker by the entrance to our village,
and wait for an answer to my prayer,
the sight of my son again, hale and whole,
and ignore the murmurs of my weak heart.
My good wife brings me clay, and I set
myself to making cement for our well,
and hope, a new prayer, that our Lord sees fit
to keep us bound together in this life.
/ / /
This poem was written in response to Wordle 45 at The Sunday Whirl.
This is a beautiful response to film, Richard. I love that the father recognizes and honors the merits of youth in his son.
You have woven a loving tale here, Richard.
Pamela
I really like this, Richard:
The woods outside our village seemed dense
to my eyes, and, to my senses, cumbersome
to enter quietly as a savage hunter,
but his youth gives him powers I have not.
I really admire the way you have used these pesky wordle words and made a coherent and beautiful story from them.
I enjoyed the story too. I would imagine any parent worrying about their child going into the woods, even with a gun.
Richard, sometimes a father needs to trust a son, even if he fears for his safety. That is the message I got from this well written wordle poem.
well done, captures the essence of letting ones son go out for the first time on any adventure. Really enjoyed.
Nice home for the wordle words.
And I am left with an ache and a wondering:: Did the son return?
Excellent use of the words.
Ahhh….I too wonder if the son returned. But am grateful for the hope found in the father’s heart.
Lovely.
A well-honed tale full of a father’s love and foreboding … beautifully crafted and left with no resolution … just the way I like them …
http://aleapingelephant.blogspot.com/2012/02/last-wolf.html
A fairy tale quality that begs for a happy ending. Though most fairy tales did not end so. You leave us wanting more…
A tale with a beautiful feeling of reality.
Sweet, tender, and I like that the wife brings him clay. You echo how families feel.
My sincere thanks to all of you who stopped by to read my poem. And an extra-special thank you to all of you who left me such kind, delightful words to read.
Richard