Departing Words to a Son
Robert Pack

We choose to say goodbye against our will
Home will take on stillness when you're gone
Remember us --- but don't dwell on the past
Here --- wear this watch my father gave to me

Home will take on stillness when you're gone
We'll leave your room as is --- at least for now
Here --- wear this watch my father gave to me
His face dissolves within the whirling snow

We'll leave your room as is --- at least for now
I'll dust the model boats that sail your wall
His face dissolves within the whirling snow
It's hard to picture someone else's life

I'll dust the model boats that sail your wall
Don't lose the watch --- the inside is engraved
It's hard to picture someone else's life
Your window's full of icicles again

Don't lose the watch --- the inside is engraved
A wedge of geese heads somewhere out of sight
Your window's full of icicles again
Look how the icicles reflect the moon

A wedge of geese heads somewhere out of sight
My father knew the distances we keep
Look how the icicles reflect the moon
The moonlight shimmers wave --- like on your wall

My father knew the distances we keep
Your mother sometimes cries out in the night
The moonlight shimmers wave --- like on your wall
One June I dove too deep and nearly drowned

Your mother sometimes cries out in the night
She dreams the windy snow has covered her
One June I dove too deep and nearly drowned
She says she's watched me shudder in my sleep

She dreams the windy snow has covered her
She's heard your lost scream stretch across the snow
She says she's watched me shudder in my sleep
We all conceive the loss of what we love

She's heard your lost scream stretch across the snow
My need for her clenched tighter at your birth
We all conceive the loss of what we love
Our love for you has given this house breath

My need for her clenched tighter at your birth
Stillness deepens pulsing in our veins
Our love for you has given this house breath
Some day you'll pass this watch on to your son

Stillness deepens pulsing in our veins
My father's words still speak out from the watch
Some day you'll pass this watch on to your son
Repeating what the goldsmith has etched there

My father's words still speak out from the watch
As moonlit icicles drip on your sill
Repeating what the goldsmith has etched there
We choose to say goodbye against our will.

--- From Words Brushed by Music
John T. Irwin, Editor
©2005 Johns Hopkins University