ANOTHER POEM

A SOBERING LIGHT

(remembering my son Oswald’s day of birth/death 21 years ago)

Twenty-seven January, nineteen eighty eight
When you almost saw the light.
(But of course I won’t ever know if you really did.
This is the most I could surmise:

Perhaps you had a faint glimpse of it.)
Then the wings of death engulfed your being
And darkness dominated the landscape
Of a clear morning that later developed
Into a sunny noon of frustrated celebration.
And I was lonely beyond loneliness.

The day couldn’t be in control of the moment;
I was in control as tears melted the heat of the sun
And darkness ruled the light of day.
(Or was there really light? Would a man in anguish know?)
I wobbly stood before the unfathomable apeiron—
Facing the hub of a never-ending vortex—
That almost stole the sanity of my consciousness
For no wailing was ever heard in the wilderness of deaf
And nonresponsive deities who are always on a holiday.

Yet restore sobriety I must with the realization
That life must go on even with the chronic grief
That has gripped the unconsolable heart
Of a father who never felt the warmth of your embrace
At every high noon of joy and at every dusk of difficulties.
But like a sobering light that encourages life
To be more meaningful and daring in an exigent cosmos,
The memory of you, my Son who never knew me,
Will be an enduring inspiration that defies the sting of death.

Ruel F. Pepa
27 January 2009