Cradle And Silence

There was a house
Clean floor, open window
But the silence was louder than love
And the door never stayed shut

You were sleeping while I planned my goodbye
Your breath so soft, mine was a sigh
I picked you up, I held you tight
Tried to vanish without a fight

I kissed you light, just on the brow
Like a ghost afraid to speak aloud
I walked away, I left the scene
I was a coward, Kemely
Only seventeen

The clock stopped on that borrowed kiss
And time never forgave me for this

You were just a baby, and I was running scared
Hiding from life, love—was never prepared
On my first Father’s Day, I gave you a goodbye
And each one since then, just added to the lie

You grew up strong, I stayed away
Behind the fear I couldn’t betray
But no distance, no silence, no shame I keep
Could hush the love I feel so deep

I saw your pictures as the years rolled on
Every smile, a wound that never was gone
Each birthday candle I never lit
Each tear you cried—I felt every bit

If someday you let me speak
I won’t ask for love, won’t ask for peace
Just the chance to say with trembling breath
I was wrong. I feared love worse than death

You were just a baby, and I was running scared
Fighting myself, gasping for air
I gave you a goodbye on day number one
And I’ve been bleeding from it since it begun

If you never call me dad, I’ll understand
But I never let go of your hand
You might not speak my name again
But I’ve carried yours through fire and rain

Kemely
Forgive me
If you can