FISHING FOR ANSWERS

[Maureen K Clifford]

FISHING FOR ANSWERS .. Maureen Clifford © The #ScribblyBarkPoet

She said “you pout your lips and frown whenever you are thinking
and furrowed eyebrows loom above your eyes.
You sit and stare for hours sometimes – watch the red sun sinking
and you don’t have answers, this I realize.
But tell me Grandpa why the water here runs back and forth?
And why are shapes of feet in sand so big?
Do you really think that when we die, we truly go to Heaven?
And why did Adam eat an apple not a fig?

Do you think that one day maybe all the world will be at peace
and instead of war there’s happiness instead?
Jenny in my class at school said her dad is a hero.
If he’s a hero Grandpa, why then is he dead?
I heard a song that said we hold the whole world in our hands.
How can that be Grandpa, my hands are so small?
Did you know that the world was supposed to end on Sunday
but it didn’t, ‘cause I had to play softball.?”

And on and on she prattled in her small and young girl’s voice
as they both sat on the sands at the seashore,
and he thought about her questions, but he didn’t have the answers
but nobody loves a moralist that’s sure.
He could have told her all the wrongs of the world came from greed,
and jealousy and hate and even fear.
Why that should be he didn’t know – and he had no solutions
for the waters now were muddied and unclear.

Was Jenny’s Dad a hero? Yes, undoubtedly he was
but should he have been fighting on foreign shores?
He didn’t have the answers but inside his old heart bled
for a child with Father lost forevermore.
He wanted to protect the sweet and beautiful innocence
of this child of his heart – he loved her so.
He wanted her to grow and reach her ultimate potential
but would that happen? Well! He didn’t really know.

All he could do was try to instil in her compassion
and a love of nature, animals and life.
Make sure she understood the necessity of giving
and the life lessons to try and avoid strife.
To understand that sometimes things are neither black nor white.
Folks shouldn’t be judged by the colour of their skin,
or their race or their religion for at the end of the day
each one was Gods own child – a precious thing.

So he gathered up his fishing poles and called her over to him
put his arm around her shoulders, hugged her tight.
Said “remember Grandpa loves you and he really always will -
let’s go and cook this fish for Gran tonight.
Then we’ll sit on the verandah and I’ll have a cup of tea
and we’ll feed old Jack leftovers from our plate.
And we’ll watch the red sun sinking, the end of a perfect day.
What ya reckon Sue, my little fishing mate”.

[alongtimegone]

A lovely piece Maureen. You've touched on questions through the eyes of a child in a sad but beautiful way.
Wazza

[Maureen K Clifford]

Thank you Wazza - I'm delighted you picked up on that

[Ron]

I read this quickly on my phone while away and bookmarked it for a more in-depth read when I got home. It is a beautiful poem and you have captured the word pictures of the questions in a generation gap so well.
A really enjoyable read,
Cheers
Ron.

[Maureen K Clifford]

Thank you Ron and apologies for my tardy response. I am delighted you liked it

[Catherine Lee]

Delightful poem, Maureen - deciding how best not to burden a questioning child with the complexities of life just yet, whilst at the same time the innocent questions making one ponder the meaning of it all oneself! ...A lovely read.

[Maureen K Clifford]

Thanks Catherine - delighted the intent of simplicity came through - I'm a fan of KISS Even more so as I get older