Fathers and sons

Haiku for the generations

In the sleepless night,
when ev’rything else is still,
haiku write themselves.

He went to the war
at eighteen. Had its effect,
made him who he was.

At Bomber Command
the rear gunner faces death
over and again.

When it was over
he returned, with the burden
of his survival.

For king and country,
or the queen. Doesn’t matter;
it’s about duty.

A draft resister!
The family is disgraced,
for the father, shame.

Not like my father;
but sometimes, in the mirror,
he looks back at me.

My own parenting
would not be like my father’s.
Messed up, anyway.

Grace means accepting
that the one you argue with
might just be correct.

 

© Ken Rookes 2017

It was ANZAC Day this week and I did some personal reflecting. These haiku are the result. So far.  Make of them what you will.

Another resurrection story

Do not seek death, death will find you.
But seek the road that makes death a fulfilment.
Dag Hammarskj
öld

Another resurrection story. In the township of Nain
an only son joins Lazarus, and in time, Jesus himself.
(Let’s be generous, and add the daughter of Jairus;
that makes four members of the resurrection guild.)

Perhaps the widow’s son will outlive her, this time;
(this is the way things should be).
Then she will be spared the bitterness
of rekindled grief.

Another resurrection story,
but they are all really part of the one.
Death’s ultimate conqueror
having come among us.

The ones who followed after him
eventually understood that bodily resurrections
have little use
beyond the postponement of grief.

Death however,
should be received as a divine gift.
Death’s purpose is not found in its reversal
through resurrection,

but in the fulfilment of living.

© Ken Rookes 2016

​ Trinity

 

Maker of the universe:

ordering the chaos,

painting rainbows,

sculpting outcrops,

planting forests,

spinning the atoms.

 

Prophet of the kingdom:

embracing outcasts,

telling stories,

washing feet,

bearing sins,

sharing our load.

 

Guide upon our journey:

renewing the world,

calling the faithful,

bestowing gifts,

expanding minds,

joining hearts.

 

Mystery,

Trinity,

God who is here.

 

 

An older poem on the Trinity, for those who found my new poem a little heavy going

© Ken Rookes