words

have you found your morphine drip, father,
have you clawed your way at last
from the terrors of that jungle, that deep conflict,
where so many souls did burn
and congeal again as lost principles
in the napalm of your breath,
did you war your way to heaven
where the fathers of our fathers were turned away
in agony, their hearts too blackened
by the fires of this world.

you are a giant,
with long strides you crossed oceans,
continents, ideas,
my blood housed in yours.

and here now words fail me.

-S.C. Martinez