By: Jason CookThe following is a poem I wrote reflecting on the Parable of the Prodigal Son in Luke 15: 11 – 32. It is part of a larger series of poems I have written about fatherhood and faith.
Where is Your Dad?
I love you son,
The Father cried.
I want what’s mine,
The son replied.
My heart is broken,
Son, just stay.
And then the son ran,
Dad, I have to go away.
The days pass by,
All without joy.
How will he make it?
Where is my boy?
The days pass by,
Home just before the sun.
Finally, free from Him,
Life has just begun.
Reckless abandon,
Until the funds run out.
The son turned slave discovered.
What He was talking about.
No longer worthy to be a son.
For so much to atone,
Swallowing his pride,
The son set out for home.
He had rehearsed his lines,
And thought he was done.
Then, while he was yet far away.
He saw Dad start to run.
Dad hugged him and kissed him.
He cried tears full of joy.
And somehow, this healed him,
Just like when he was a boy.
I am not worthy!
The broken son blurted out.
Dad would have none of that.
No, not in his house.
Strike up the band!
Bring the calf that has thrived.
This is my son. He was dead.
And now, he is alive!
The father got his family back,
And I’ve heard the good news.
The Gospel is for prodigals;
and the rest of us too.