This is in memory of my father, Knud Christian Larsen, May 13, 1907-April 20, 1995
I composed it a little over a year after he passed away. I thought I had published it, but I’m unable to locate it, so here it is again.
IN OTHER REALMS
Where is now your laughter, the smiling eyes that greeted me
When I perchance came by to say hello and talk of olden days?
You chose to leave and go by trails as yet unknown to me,
Before I came to bid you happy journey.
No stone nor simple cross exists to mark or to inform
That once you looked upon this land and loved it’s
Graceful splendor much as I, and all of those who
Feasted here, before I came to see this realm.
I think not of you as gone beyond a further meet
The sun will rise to hail the new and old again, again.
That brilliant, radiant glory, companion to the soul
And mother to the needs of all that is or soon will be.
Do you hear the screeching gulls there by the bay?
Where countless waves have found their end.
The surging sands and weeds, the flotsam of the sea
That stranded there a moment while on a longer journey.
I look upon a single star and sense an empty strangeness!
Is this a berth where other ships belong?
Or destined port of call for each who ploughed the
Seas of life toward an unknown destiny?
Do you see the daffodils that greet the budding sky of spring?
Or do you walk among the throng of white and pink
Below the beech that yet for years will bear your name
The one you carved in a youthful, prankish jest?
stout is now its trunk, yet youthful tender boughs abound
And newness all around. When I look upon this aging tree
I sense a closeness to another time, when dreams of triumph
And lofty deeds came lightly as clouds upon a summer sky.
If present realm is not tomorrow’s house of glory,
Where then plays the child that lived the dream?
In the jeweled darkness the rivers find the abyss of death,
Predestined cradle of their own primordial birth.
I, who yet must play in pastures of this moment
And search for answers in the hollow echoes of my calls,
Behold within my soul a vision of the seeds
That fruited fields in countless other realms.
In memory of my Father
Knud Christian Larsen, whom I loved very dearly
May 13,1907, April 20, 1995