Father

Like trickling drops that fall on the mountainside,
That slick down and fall over ridges,
That smooth and bend and break the rock,
Like trickling drops that fall from the sky --

I would always call on your name, a darkness
That spreads in fog and lights, a thread
Curving through a threadbare world, a pause
Of velvet fabric in the sagging folds, in darkness
I would always call on your name

Alone, afraid, and bearing
Heat in a flickering pinpoint,
Rising the greater to join the lesser
Shivering cold like a soul frozen in ice
Alone, afraid, and beam to smite

My enemies innumerable, smite
The days that pass like golding
Leaves always falling down
Through the rivers of Eminent-Father-Time
Like trickling drops that fall down the mountains,
That slick and slide and smooth to wear the rock,
Carving indellibly, indellibly a face
That peers gaunt-eyed and hollow from the rock

To the rising sun and night's delight
Of cool shadows and succulent shade.