Shifting the Sun
~by Diana Der-Hovanessian
When your father dies, say the Irish,
you lose your umbrella against bad weather.
May his sun be your light, say the Armenians
When your father dies, say the Welsh,
you sink a foot deeper into the earth.
May you inherit his light, say the Armenians.
When your father dies, say the Canadians,
you run out of excuses.
May you inherit his sun, say the Armenians.
When your father dies, say the French,
you become your own father.
May you stand up in his light, say the Armenians.
When you father dies, say the Indians,
he comes back as the thunder.
May you inherit his light, say the Armenians.
When your father dies, say the Russians,
he takes your childhood with him.
May you inherit his light, say the Armenians.
When your father dies, say the English,
you join his club you vowed you wouldn't.
May you inherit his sun, say the Armenians.
When your father dies, say the Armenians,
your sun shifts forever.
And you walk in his light.
~~~
I took this photo of sunset at Lincoln City, Oregon, last Saturday evening. We spent the night there with our two dogs and, quite frankly, my mind has not fully returned from the beach yet.
When I read this poem it seemed perfect for the image. I do not know why. I just feel that someone who has lost his or her father might come upon this post and find some peace.
I do know that, since scattering my mother's ashes into the ocean over ten years ago not far from this beach, visits there have grown dearer with each setting sun.
.
