The Lost Man / In Father's Garden

The Lost Man - by K.D. DeFehr

My darling father,

I have watched you and your shadow

sitting by the window for seven-hundred-thirty mornings,

under the spell of the old mantel clock as it ticks away,

minutes becoming hours, hours becoming days.

How long has time been chasing you?

All my life I could find you in coveted havens;

at the nursery where you spent forty years in lush greenhouses

and in our own secret garden of willows and maples,

- lavender and tiger lilies. All before the biting blade of a rotary saw

took use from your working hand. Still, under a shelter of exotic leaves

and flowers, that place will always feel like Neverland.

Of late, some part of you has been lost to me

behind resting laugh lines and drawn-out sighs.

Like the sails of a ship from a long forgotten dream

I see "forever" slowly fading from your eyes...

But the scales of time do not measure everything,

not the pain of severed flesh and veins, or the love that we receive,

nor the strength that it takes for a grown up to whisper, I do believe.

Author's note: I wrote this poem for my Intro to Poetry class back in 2016. The project was to write a "Fairytale poem", so I based this loosely on the theme of Peter Pan. At the time, I was living with my parents and thoughtfully watching my dad heal from a devastating injury which ended his career at a local plant nursery. He has since gone back through school, and become a community mental health support worker, helping those who suffer from traumatic brain injury and addictions. I couldn't be prouder of my dad for all that he is, was and always will be. He has demonstrated to me the great power of healing yourself, so you may then lend a hand to others. I will always believe in you, Dad.

Below you will find my revised version, "In Father's Garden", where I allowed one poem to inspire another for my poetry class final portfolio.

In Father’s Garden - by K.D. DeFehr

Father,

I’ve always found you

in luscious sanctuaries of your

making- in greenhouses

of lavender and tiger lilies;

and in our own secret garden,

coveted, its ivy cloak lacing.

One day, you’ll find home

in a new, unearthly haven,

free from the bending of backs

or the strain of tired knees.

On that day I will still search

to find you, among red maples

and weeping willow trees.

I will feel your embrace in the

sigh of this west coast wind

you’ve always loved so much.

I’ll watch your shadow sprawl

weightless on limber branches,

and perhaps time, for a moment,

could stand still for both of us.

I will meet you under first spring

rain, among beds of purple irises,

and tiny, blue forget-me-nots;

listen as thunder rolls in from

the old bench swing, our favorite

summer storm watching spot.

And, father, I will remember this;

you saying, any fool can burry a seed.

But it’s the life we work for

that thrives, independent and strong.

The plants that grow are the plants

we water, tend, and feed.

© Original work of Kailey Dawne DeFehr