Mar 212006

This poem is shared by Kristine K. Lowder

He’s tired coming home as the day’s nearly spent
Selfless shoulders may sag and then droop, greatly bent
But when he walks through the door at the end of the day
He’s met by a chorus chiming, “Dad, can you play?”
First Josiah jumps up and dashes to Dad
Sammy swoops in – “Daddy’s home!” – is he glad!
Nathan grabs gloves, “Hey Dad, come this way!”
Daniel with Math, “Can you help me today?”

He sets down his lunch box, straightens up with a sigh
“Just a minute you guys, let me loosen my tie”
Surveys the day’s damage, “Where’s the train wreck?” he’ll ask
And quietly helps mom with each clean-up task.
“Ready now?” ask four boys, their eager eyes wide
Cuz when Dad strides “ashore,” ev’ry game changes tide.

Then shirt sleeves rolled up, Dad wades into the fray
His strong, sturdy arms help guide and relay
Helping fend off those Zeroes, a Pearl Harbor attack!
Pushing through Normandy, the Allies are back
Rousting out Redcoats, bounding over the Main
The Alamo’s waiting, brave defenders to fame
Sherwood Forest to save, David Balfour to greet
Captain Hook to swash buckle, make Godzilla retreat.

“Time for Practice” Dad says — it’s the signal at last
While tornadoes of cleats, gloves, and caps all roar past
Chauffeuring kids to and fro, chasing bats, balls, and gloves
Afternoons in the sun, spending time, spelling “love.”

Chugging home after dark, too weary to eat
“Where’s Josiah’s new jammies–the ones with the feet?”
Day closes, sun’s snoring, tub and dinner are done
Kids all quiet in bed, still at last — ‘cept for one
He whimpers and cries, a dark dream in the night
Dad creeps to his room, soothes a small child’s bad fright.

Big hands clasp those smaller, to protect and to guide
Bear the love of a Father whose own Son has died
On his knees on the floor, Daddy battles for peace
Prays mountains of mercy, sweet repose to release.

From whence comes his fervor, dogged courage & grace?
Where’s the fount of such mettle, who pilots the pace?
A source every human dad needs, and can know:
“In weakness My strength is perfected and flows.”

Our Dad isn’t perfect, for humanity’s flawed
But his life is poured out to his family and God
You gave us your name, will to run the race true
Granite strength, fountain foaming with grit, grace, can do!
So Dad, we salute you and thank God so much
Yes, YOU are our hero; for through you comes His touch.

 Posted by at 17:56