The Prodigal
A poem
Aren’t you the one
who waved goodbye
then left for thirty years
only to return today
expecting us all to say:
stranger, good to see you.
Sit down, tell us your stories,
hear a few of our own.
While you were away
life moved as it does,
its engine never stops:
disasters follow always
the heels of celebrations.
Crops we plant, thrive
and are then harvested
or, plagued by drought
are not worth the effort
and are ploughed back
into the ground. The same
for so many of us.
Notice we move carefully,
knowing the heart holds
a hidden trap door
and remembering friends
who now sail underground.
Dropped in the plush of satin,
steering baronial caskets,
they try to cross the river
believing that in so doing
they’ll erase all traces of memory.
Upstairs, the rest of us
do work that must be done:
so much of it just plain forgetting,
letting go of those sad sailors,
waiting our prodigal’s return
for the chance to say:
Stranger, good to see you.
Sit down, tell us some stories.
Here are a few of our own.