a fathers' grave

above a fathers' grave,
a forgotten ground,
of overgrown weeds and shrubs,
of flowers,
dead and withered,
he stands,
a lone figure,
overshadowed by the tall grass,
he stares at that tree,
a dead mans' reminder,
they did plant,
and he sees a father in it,
the stem,his flesh,
the branches,his ways,
a soul in its fruits...
he stares to the gods,
the mighty who got choices,
who bring calamities upon the worlds,
he hates to question them,
on what they do and how they do,
if they know what they do when they do,
why take gods we see,
for they we see help,
these we don't can't,
and he bows his head,
shakes it,
and smiles,
to the broken earth,
quays to a world unseen,
and he hopes,
somewhere,
a man he misses,
smiles back..