For My Father

The silent strength of hills was his, the constant,
The necessary, changeless presence, grown
So usual in unobtrusive giving
Of strength, that we believed his strength our own.

And the enduring certitudes of earth
Were his, the richness time could not despoil.
Our lives were rooted in his deep assurance
As trees are rooted in essential soil.

Without him, though we trust that his eternal
Faith is fulfilled and his long task approved,
We bear within our hearts and desolation
Of mountains fallen and of earth removed.

–Saturday Evening Post, 1949