An Indian Father Wakes
by Johnny Rustywire
An Indian father gets up
Having lay there a few hours
He stares at the ceiling for a long time
It was early too early
sunrise hours away
He couldn't sleep and didn't know why
Woke at 2 and tried to watch tv
Nothing to do this early,
tired so tired
Where is Christmas
What is Christmas
The spirit of Christmas
What is it really
He sees the innocence in his children's eyes
They share and tell each other stories
About life, love, and looking out for each other
Their mother gives all she has for them
Though she is weak and sick
She loves them more than life itself
A long time ago when they started out
She just wanted a simple house, a car
A place to call home
Where is the Christmas spirit
It is in their eyes
It is not here this early
No hot water for days
Water heater shorted out
Don't know much about electricity
What is hot and cold, polarity and stuff
She boiled hot water on the stove
It was an old one sort of green
Four cooking coils, just two worked
Cooking supper his wife called out
It flashed, sparked, flickered, and then died
Now there is no hot water for the kid's bath
Taking cold sponge baths standing there crying
Need to fix it but there is no money
A leaking roof shorted it out
The water heater stands there cold
No money no money it is just cash
It makes the world go around it makes a life
Where is the home, the warm place for children
The wall heaters went out two years ago
So space heaters whir and the children play
The work has been slow, none last week
Took out an advance and his pay didn't cover it
Still owes $200 to the boss two weeks before Christmas
No pay day between now and then
Three months rent he owes and still he tells the landlord
Who stands at the door, where is my money he says
His grizzled beard prickly, I need the rent money
Get me something or get out he said
I don't have it I don't have it
Somehow you better get it
Be out of here by the 1st and then left
Snow snow
new fallen snow like a white quilt
Soft inviting and quiet
the cold is hidden in it
No sleep thinking about Christmas
His wife sickly and not able to move around
Living on potato soup, cabbage and celery
Sitting there early
in the middle of the night
How did things get this way
Wishing he were a better father
You work and toil and really try
Life is like that it isn't always fair
He knew it he knew it
No one to talk to
how did it happen
life works that way
Just want some basic things for now
Christmas is coming, Christmas is coming
It didn't work out
the way it was supposed to
Things are bad
It goes that way sometimes he says
It will be better next year
We will have more
He listens to himself
A child cries
He hears them stirring
The place is cold
It is two weeks before Christmas
But to him just another day
He sits in the dark
He sits in the dark
Wondering about it all
Wondering about it all
Sitting there
The boy comes to him
Without a word
he crawls into his father’s arms
He rests there and sleeps
What is this gift
This small gift of life
In all of this
In all of this
He comes to me
Hold me
Protect me
Keep me warm
Father father
Sitting there
Looking down
Little hands
Small feet
Dark hair and he sleeps
We go on
We go on
This little one
My son
My son
In all that goes on
There is one thing
He lies there quietly
A simple act
a child's touch
life goes on
life goes on
What is Christmas
Where is Christmas
It is the faith of child
Knowing a father is there
To go on and on
Carrying any burden
Some things come to mind
Grandfather I remember
We have survived
We have survived
Long cold winters,
No food
No shelter
In the quiet of a summer day
Long ago as a small child
Grandfather spoke to me
There would be times like this
That in those times
When it seems there is no sweet water
Close your eyes
Listen to your heart
Hear me I am in the wind
I spoke with you from long ago
We live in you
All that was and who we were
Go on with you
You have survived
You have survived
Go on and on
Go on and on
In this way he spoke
The father cradles his son
The distant horizon brings new light
Fingers stretched with pale blue light
Reaching across the sky
to turn pink and gold
Remembering the words from long ago
Like an old indian song
Hozhogo Nahasdlii
Hoshogo Hahasdlii
In Beauty it begins
In Beauty it begins
There is beauty all around me
There is beauty all around me
There is beauty to the left of me
There is beauty to the right of me
There is beauty above me
There is beauty below me
There is beauty to the front of me
There is beauty to the back of me
I walk in Beauty
I walk in Beauty
Let it be so
Let it be so
In Beauty I am restored
In Beauty I am restored
Autumn Leaves
volume 8 number 6
This poem is copyright © 2004, Johnny Rustywire, all rights reserved.
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