Rolling and holding
onto a used to be,
always unfolding
across a jealous sea.

Your father's scolding is
whipped waves roaring,
a howling wind that tore
the sound from
hell's aching bell.

Your Father's smile, bliss,
graceful, gentle, wide.
When it falls down
you can't hide.

Rolling and holding
onto a used to be,
always unfolding
across a jealous sea.