Sons fatherless wander in the forest...

b’’h

2/24/13 r1

Sons fatherless wander in the forest,

Trample and tread upon ways of the field,

Edges of earth searching so to be healed, 

Tho' find they no relief nor even rest.

For life, as then and always, is a test,

A trial of the soul -- the sentence sealed;

Tho' perpetrator ever chained and jailed --

No statute-stated reason for arrest.

Yet no criminal he whose innocence

Is marked upon his forehead as a sign --

But just an extra son -- a pale pilgrim --

A slave to search -- a puppet uselessness --

Who look and look and look but never find

The gardener who planted and left him.

Reviews

[Sami Khalil]

Trample and tread upon ways of the field,

Edges of earth searching so to be healed,

Tho' find they no relief nor even rest.
There is a powerful spiritual truth to this poem that you share fom your experience.
Those are my favorite lines in this great write...:)

[Firestone Feinberg]

Thank you, sir, for your very kind and very generous review. You are right: this poem comes from my expeience. Too frequent and too painful are the conflicts which sometimes erupt between fathers and sons. It is a sad thing; but it is life and we must accept all of it. May God continue to bless you and yours. Sincerely, David

[Sami Khalil]

You are welcome dear kind ,sir . To you and yours too.

[Holly Mason]

very lovely...the gardener nice way of saying this
I am impressed thank you for sharing