March 26, 2010

My Journey to God

The Prodigal Father

The old man lowered his head to conceal the tears
ready to fall as he lingered at the gate watching his
youngest hurry away.

Oh, the excitement in the youth nearly sparked
the same in him, but the sadness of absence
soon smothered it.

The long days, void of his child, drew him each
twilight and dusk to scan the road’s length
in never ending hope.

Many moons later, as he was habitually checking,
his saddened eyes were quickly wiped
to assure him of his view.

Yes! It was his boy! Fearing nothing, longing
full-hearted, he ran to his son’s embrace,
picking him up unashamedly.

Both talking at once, the father drowned all
with a sweep of prodigality:
“My son is alive!”

By Sister Norma Gettelfinger, O.S.B.

(Benedictine Sister Norma Gettelfinger is a member of Our Lady of Grace Monastery in Beech Grove. Her poem was inspired by the Parable of the Prodigal Son from the Gospel of Luke, which is recounted in Lk 15:11-32.) †

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