Prodigal

This poem was inspired during a poetry session looking at the Rembrandt Prodigal Son picture.

I'm back...  dad.

Too far away I went,  my mind and senses spent.

It looked so nice and was.

Why things so bad,  taste so good,  I did not understand.

My life in tatters, rags and shorn,

I thought my actions would draw scorn,

But no,  here runs my dad,  I prayed to not have made him sad, and here he is, so glad.

Welcome son,  beloved one,  there is no wrath no life undone.

You look on me,  still see a son?

What grace is this, I cannot fathom, deaths defeat? a mighty chasm?

And here I am now,  at your feet,

I'm back... dad.

© 2025   Barry Wadhams

Rembrandt - Return of the Prodigal