Prayer to the God on Love

Old fierceness is what you show us,
fierceness no less strong because it's old.
For the age is not in your body, but in your eyes;
a little tired, perhaps, from having seen so much.
But like so many fathers the fierceness is love.
Fierceness isn't always motivated by cruelty;
a father's fierceness may be of respect,
not letting us win games by throwing them,
but making us beat them fairly,
thereby gaining our own respect to match theirs.
Sometimes it is silence, like fishing beside each other,
sometimes talking on a long road trip.
Men are often bad at putting things into words
but express their love no less through deeds,
even though that may be hard to see:
The man who carries the heaviest suitcase, even though he's sick too,
is speaking his love.
The husband and father who goes each day to health-destroying work,
is speaking his love.
If we don't see this, it's our fault, not his,
and although you are a god, you are purely a man, and show your love through deeds.
Not a soft love, but love so hard it sometimes doesn't seem as if it's there.
But the fault is ours.
So when I come to you, looking for comfort,
I don't expect hugs, or soothing touches,
I expect comfort, sure, but the comfort comes in these words:
"OK; let's get to work fixing this —
we'll do it together."

And we will.