Poem Therapy at 9:14 P. M. - Edward Hirsch

Lay Back the Darkness
Edward Hirsch

My father in the night shuffling from room to room
on an obscure mission through the hallway.

Help me, spirits, to penetrate his dream
and ease his restless passage.

Lay back the darkness for a salesman
who could charm everything but the shadows,

an immigrant who stands on the threshold
of a vast night

without his walker or his cane
and cannot remember what he meant to say,

though his right arm is raised, as if in prophecy,
while his left shakes uselessly in warning.

My father in the night shuffling from room to room
is no longer a father or a husband or a son,

but a boy standing on the edge of a forest
listening to the distant cry of wolves,

to wild dogs,
to primitive wingbeats shuddering in the treetops.

I suppose it's true that age transforms us into the wild spirits we were before we became tame. I don't know the origins of "once a man, twice a boy", but my father is becoming a boy again. My father is growing older. His spirit is young, but he stumbles like a toddler now. It's Father's Day this weekend and I've been thinking of how many more I will have with him. There's no way of knowing.