Father by Timothy Wilkie

In that shell I became aware.
Of a steady hand and a silent prayer.
If all of heaven was a bell,
And everything else had gone to hell.
Lost in the silence of this place,
To fight my battles and to save face.
Born among the bodies of a new day,
I changed my name and walked away.
I can not live on blood alone,
It must be structured by flesh and bone.
The smell of copper and charred wood,
It is for the evil and not the good.
He stands before me as his massive wings unfold,
And I know my father has come to take me home.

 

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Timothy Wilkie is a legend in the Hudson Valley his stories, art, poetry, and music are what makes him legendary. He has two grown sons, Justin and Blake, and lives in Kingston, NY, on the banks of the Hudson River. He loves hiking and anything outdoors.

Published 6/16/23