I'll still be looking up to you
He was a short man
with thick hands
hands i felt wrapped around a belt
as he rapped my pelt to welts when i was twelve
that's old for a full out whipping
but I had punched my big sister in her face
and he had to get my mind right
and he had to get my mind right
my daddy was a good man
he was a good man who never lied to me
told me when he had to leave
and told me why
told me his whole life story before he died
the soft heft his voice stretched and hummed warm and bright
light poured from his smile
his laugh was wild,
started as a grumble and whistled into sistle
as he sang vibrato chuckles
his spirit was wild
wrapped in dignified clothes and positions
stuffed in big leather chairs and big business
presidential
and I'm reverential now
but back then I hated him
because he raised extended families and communities
but he didn't raise me
because he made money and gave scholarships
none of which he gave me
I had to make mine on my own
it wasn't till I was grown
and grateful for the independence him and mama taught me
wasn't till he took 10 in after the storm that I saw what daddy taught me
be there
wherever you are
be present
and he had been
even when I punished him
refused him the pride of my accomplishment
told him he couldn't see his youngest son graduate from yale law school
damn i was a fool
i'd cut a chunk out of my spirit to see his smile shine on mine
a dad proud of his son
he was long gone before I thanked the almighty for his golden soul
and what more can I say now that his passing is a year old
and my last living line to the divine has finished his time
as I wind on
what more can i say
thank you daddy
no matter how high I get
I'll still be looking up to you
love,
Michael Otieno
1 comment:
Preciate the words my brother. Mr. Molina stays on my mind quite a bit.. 1 love...Nuc
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