An Empty Pair of Boots

The numbness overcame me, I felt that I had died

As I crumbled like a rag doll, upon the earth to cry

For my eyes could not believe it, the vision they took in

A sight that brought such heartache, a quiver to my chin

I hoped for an illusion that was bound to fade away 

As I turned to peer again, at what mocked my state that day

But there was no delusion, what I saw was real

And I could not believe the pain, I was forced to feel

For only two short months ago, I left you here alone

And then returned back to the house, that no longer felt like home

And sorted through the past, a past that once had you

Searching for your memory, in your things I rummaged through

 I longed to find your fragrance, upon old flannel shirts

Anything to ease the pain, to take away my hurt

I struggled through the dresser drawers, which held your many things

I gathered them within my arms, for the comfort they might bring

I sat upon your favorite chair, held your photo to my heart

And silently I cursed the day, which tore my world apart

I searched the contents of your wallet, not knowing what I’d find

And came across my photo, at the age of eight or nine 

There I stood so proudly, how small I seemed to be    

In my daddy’s work boots that were much too big for me

And with a mischief smile, you stood next to my side

Laughter in your eyes, your face aglow with pride

How often I had worn your boots and stomped across the floor

Now they lay untouched, behind your closet door

What am I supposed to do?  What will be their use? 

For not a man in all the world, could ever fill my daddy’s boots

And now here at your gravesite, upon a dirt-filled mound

Right next to your grave, empty boots lay upon the ground

Feeling me with fury, as I fight to understand

What seems to me a heartless hoax, from God’s misguided hand

For what could be the purpose, empty work boots near your grave

If not to mock my broken heart, and to cause it needless pain

Just when my fury hits me, of the injustice of God’s choice

I feel another’s presence, and hear a child’s voice

I turn to see a little girl, only eight or nine

Conversing with the air, somewhere lost in time

Standing near the grave, where those empty boots stood tall

  I watched as she stepped inside, her feet were much too small

But that didn’t seem to matter, as she stomped in circles all around

And then took them from her feet, and replaced them on the ground

And then she touched the gravestone that held her daddy’s name

And smiled toward the heavens, without anger, without blame

And because she seemed to know, no man could fill her daddy’s boots

She saw they still had purpose, that they would have a use   

And with her little hands, she placed gathered dirt inside 

As I myself imagined, her father filled with pride  

And then she took a clump of flowers, strong with flowing roots

And placed them down inside, her daddy’s empty boots

And as if God himself had spoken, or perhaps I realized on my own

Never inside my sorrow, would I ever be alone

Remembering the gift of his own Son, that God himself had gave

I finally found a welcomed peace, there at my father’s grave

 And found joy in those flowers, flowing from those old work boots

Knowing they’d continue growing, every year up from the roots

Reminding me quite clearly, that life continues on

And grief is just a process, and that love will carry on  

And in the newfound knowledge, I’d learned there on that day  

I went home with my memories, to pack my father’s things away

And though I knew no man on earth, could fill my daddy’s boots  

I was certain he’d be proud of me, for filling them with roots

And somewhere in the heavens, I envision his face aglow with pride

Each time he sees his grandson, stepping down inside

Those empty worn out work boots, brought from behind a closet door 

Making their way quite loudly, all across my kitchen floor