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Poetry

My Son, My Son

In memory of Rupert Wyard (died June 25, 2018)

My son, my son, I leave you now. 

It was not my choice to say good-bye 

when you are still so young and now 

must face alone he greatest choices of your life– 

of schooling, jobs and love and marriage. 

 

I, your father, will never see you as a man, 

as grown to the fullness of your strength 

with beard and back and standing tall 

amidst the storms and joys of years and all. 

I will not be there as you walk 

the paths of times to come. 

 

But I leave to you the joys 

and lessons of the times we shared 

and ask that you carry on 

my burdens and my cares 

while I lay at rest as 

my soul cries out to God above 

to take my place as your shield from harm 

and lead you through the life I cannot follow, 

for I today have left you now to walk alone. 

The Lion Sleeps

In memoriam: James Goeser (1941-2017)
May he rest in peace

Like a lion, he searched the plains          

and found a way to stake his claims. 

With vision, purpose, strength and grit, 

he stayed the course and never quit.  

He made the village on the plain  

a place to live and work and gain  

a life with kids, and love and games.   

 

Now the Lion sleeps, his work is done. 

His quiet strength has won 

his place at the Savior’s feast. 

But here the village weeps. 

The dawn breaks and the sky is black,   

the Lion is gone and never coming back.  

I Walked Among the Clouds

[Norman and Agnes Fedewa at the beginning (1935). She left him alone 60 years later. He died within 2 years

I walked among the clouds until I saw

that you had gone and left us all.

Alone, I looked and cried to God above

to bring you back to my home and love.

 

I needed the warmth of your tender body

and the strength of your steadfast soul,

and the laughter of your sneaky eyes.

Alone, the candle of my life was dark and cold.

 

But nothing now could bring you back.

The sound and sense of life were gone for good.

How I cried and, weeping, cursed the God above.

I was so, so lost without my precious love.

 

 

But then I thought of where you were.

I saw you in a better place and waiting there

for me to come and love me once again

and light the candle in your man.

 

Now my life goes on and I must walk alone

and try to live with open heart and open hand,

turning sorrow into grace with anger banned,

hoping love returns to melt my heart of stone.

I Walk This Shallow Earth

Today would have been my brother Stan’s birthday. May he rest in peace.
I walk this shallow earth
hollowed out by death and grief,
knowing that my brother lies beneath.
The days of sun and youth and vigor
have vanished into times
of gray much bigger
than the memories of all those years
we shared our joy and tears and fears,
knowing always we could stand together
in any kind of troubled weather
if no one else was there
to help and understand and care.
Now my brother lies at rest
beyond every trial and test
beyond the bonds of life and bother
beyond the reach and touch of me,
his brother.
LJF
August, 2014

Stations of the Cross

Written and narrated by Dr. Larry Fedewa Fedewa
Comments:
Truly an epic poem shared with passion. Where the pace is rapid, I couldn’t help reflecting on the similarly hypnotic cadence of The Hound of Heaven, a poem that has been my companion and consolation for many decades. The message also reflects the wisdom and gratitude in Amazing Grace: “I once was lost but now am found …” Great Lenten meditation. Hard to imagine Dr. Fedewa could cover so much — and convey so much more — in just 4 minutes and 19 seconds. Time well spent, especially now during Lent. Thank you!
I just attended the stations of the cross @ St. Katharine Drexel Church here in Frederick, Maryland. Thank you!