When a man first becomes a father, his child is helpless and capable of nothing. And so, he sets about the seemingly Herculean task of teaching her all she'll need to know in order to survive. He strives to make her strong, wise and independent. He teaches her to think and have a manner of comportment conducive to earning the respect and loyalty of her peers.
As he and she grow older, somewhere in the back of his mind there begins to form a notion that he is making himself redundant. That, one day, upon learning all that he has to teach, she will no longer need him. It is a terrifying thought and so he represses it, reassuring himself that such a day is long in the future.
But, sooner or later, the future arrives.
My daughter, Katie, is now half way through Grade 12. She is a spectacular student and next year she will be headed off to university. To help defray the cost, she is, like so many others, in the midst of applying for scholarships. One scholarship for which she applied required the writing of a poem. For those who don't know, "QuillFire" is a username reflective of a passion ... I am a poet. And, perhaps not surprisingly, that passion has passed from father to daughter.
The scholarship required participants to write a poem of appreciation to someone to whom they owed a debt of gratitude. Participants were to use, as a writing prompt, the title of Walt Whitman's most famous poem, "O Captain, My Captain," written in tribute to the recently assassinated Abraham Lincoln.
This was Katie's entry:
In Toga-Armor Clad
He taught me math, the hallowed path,
My tutor, since Grade 1,
Taught too to dare in Science Fairs,
Good many have I won.
Taught me to write, with words ignite,
Use sparks to start a flame,
When arguing your argument,
Must words an insight frame.
Archimedes, Aristotle,
Alexander, called The Great,
Athena, Aphrodite,
Of men, their gods and fate.
How to dress with it finesse,
So too, to throw a punch,
To start a fire and spot a liar,
Believe in it a hunch.
Say ‘please’ before you ask it,
Say ‘thank you’ when received,
Tell no lies nor truth disguise,
So that you’ll be believed.
Be loyal to your loved ones,
Find time for them, your friends,
If bond you break, don’t bond forsake,
Say sorry … make amends.
And of the tricks of politics,
Things rarely as they seem,
One finds Virtue in the middle,
And Vice it at extremes.
My teacher and my tyrant,
In toga-armor clad,
My mentor and my captain,
My hero … and my Dad.
The future ... has arrived.
Quill
You guys know the QuillDrill. Be verbose ... but articulate.
And remember ...
Go Love A Starving Poet
For God's sake ... they're starving!