Father Father (and an old red barn)

December 13, 2016

This weekend I painted these words “Father Father Holy Father” and then I put them on the barn.

Today I wrote a poem to go along side them— To go between the screws holding it to the barn— To go between the paint strokes and the brush marks— To lie underneath and support the letters. To make it all just a little bit more…

Father Father Holy Father.
Shall we go any farther?
You know me and where I been.
But I just don’t remember when.
I felt so down and I felt so out.
I looked around I looked all about.
Holy Sunshine Holy Moon.
I let go of your hand, almost too soon.
But I grasped and I held and I pleaded with all my might.
I wanna do good, but I don’t ever do right.
So listen Holy Father.
Hear my ragged plea.
Help me to do right. Help me to be free.
Show me a path. Show me a way.
Tell me what to do and Tell me what to say.
Just use my self, however is okay.
Father Father Holy Father.
Thanks for taking me a little bit farther.

see you soon,
Kyle BlackCatTips Brooks