Dr. J Chris found no fault in this man
This was a trapped, frightened boy,
Seeking to shed his guilt, he’d found
Nothing unusual as he explained “You
Were but a child, with your play pretty
You condemned yourself for nothing.
Nothing unusual in your boyhood as you
Sliced your wrist for nothing, so let me see
Your wrist.” He unfastened his watch always
Worn to hide this horrible shame; gaged
Zigzag through, wrist, soft flesh when this 60-
Another year-old man was 25-years-old, what
To do with cases like this, where great tears
Could come at any time, then while still quiet
The patient visited; visiting father, the father in the
Next room, near the old stove, 67 and 88 stoke years,
First days of fall, Dr. J. Chris had asked, “You meant
Business, didn’t you?” still these beautiful photos
A gift of grace, ability, showmanship adorned
Dr. J. Chris’ office corner often admired
By his patients. ” glance at the corner table, talented”
After the flight to Sacramento, supper and talk
The boy remembered in similar, different light
A situation of father and Shirley differently, well
Planned out to release mother, then only $25/month
For years, ADC, church-bus through poorer four-
Mile-district, as the man began the process–integration
Of 44 years, longest ago ever, then 31 years down
Ever one day at a time sober, 31-years, this man wept,
Near father, necessary as father’s friends explained
Another way of looking at Shirley, of the divorce,
Father sleeping as the 66-year-old man in his mind
Dropped real tears, wiped them before father out back
Door, “I’m going to fix Gilbert’s chainsaw; we’ll
Try to drive to town this afternoon, day turning cold
Last heat of summer.” With thousands those years,
thought tarnished n brilliancy, a family delight given over
From guilt, from misunderstanding, from the father’s
Wrath, scorn, human sacrifice has given-up as Abraham
Put down the knife, finding goat or sheep in a thicket
To sacrifice, a gift to God, only gift now accepted.
This man was free at last, free at last, like Martin’s spiritual,
Free, free at last, at age 67, 67-years, father 88-years-old,
Two old men accepted each other, $25 monthly payments
Forgiven, money, it’s always the lust for money, as in Timothy
It is written, and a new covenant poured out for our sin
This man against himself, father against mother need not,
All fell into place, the man understood friend’s version
Father’s story, all was revealed, “More will be
Revealed, and as this sober member of 31 years, “This
Without drugs and alcohol,” plainly something new
To learn, “This Is my blood.” To learn each day of existence,
Dr, J. Chris could ever be his mediator, but anger was now over,
Finally free, as the mother slept in her grave could now depart.
