Cut my Father from my life, in Spring of sixty-four,
Didn't talk for thirty years, by then his health was poor;
Sitting at his bedside rueful tears ran down my cheek,
Hearing loud the final words that Dad would ever speak.

"Grab life in two hands and wring its neck until it screams,
Leave your pain in yesterday and concentrate on dreams;
Take no heed of idiots, of men you can't respect,
Anything you wouldn't give your dog - yourself reject.

"Don't dwell on religion, when God's ready, you will know,
Think about important things, like flowers, love and snow;
Recognize the beauty of each living thing on Earth,
Don't be scared to die, and thank your parents for your birth."

As he died there, in my arms, I felt an inner peace,
Burdens I had carried for so long at last released;
Silently I sat there, helping Dad to reach the light,
Right when I had needed most, my Father taught me right.