Thank you Mam.

I HOPE THIS LETTER FINDS YOU WELL

He sealed the envelope with teardrops, cos sometimes grown men cry
And the stamp, he kissed with his trembling lips as he whispered his goodbye
Then he dropped it in the mailbox, walked away with bow-ed head
Now I sit beside his tombstone, reading what that letter said.

You’ve hurt me once to many times, that’s why I’ve hit the track
I don’t know where I am going to, but I know I won’t come back
So, goodbye to you my darling, it hurts more than I can tell
And though, I’m leaving you forever, I hope this letter finds you well.

I just can’t stay another day, my heart’s cut to the core
Can’t put our kids through hell again, nor hurt them anymore
In other gardens now I’ll plant my seed, but will their fragrance smell
Like the garden that I’m leaving now? I hope this letter finds you well.

Then he sealed it with his teardrops, cos sometimes grown men cry
And the stamp, he kissed with his trembling lips, as he whispered his goodbye
He dropped it in the mailbox, as he turned and walked away
But his life’s story doesn’t end there, with the note he wrote that day.

For when I came out to this garden, where my mother’s body lay
An old man who clasped a letter, lay here lifeless cold and gray
His writing seemed familiar, and it somehow rang a bell
When I saw that he had closed it with, I hope this letter finds you well.

Tears wet that old man’s letter, and smudged the ink before they dried
Cos when I read it in the morning light, it was I this time who cried
He had written to his children just before he passed away
And he begged them to forgive him. This is what he had to say.

My children please forgive me, I only learned the other day
That your mother left you long ago, now I don’t know what to say
The only garden where I’ve planted— any seeds apart from hers
Is the gardens down in Melbourne, in which I’ve worked these forty years.

I had to see your mother’s grave, and last night she came to me
Though I know that I was dreaming, it seemed as real as it could be
She kissed me and forgave me in words clearer than a bell
Forgive me too, for what now I do. I hope this letter finds you well.

Forty years ago, their father had kissed those kids goodbye
Forty years ago his letter, had made their mother cry
A rifle shot rang from the tool shed and they ran to where she fell
In her hand, a note that ended with, I hope this letter finds you well.

He never sealed the letter, which had made this young man cry
And I stroked his age-ed forehead, as I whispered my goodbye
All his children, they were with him when he took that final ride
And they laid him where I found him, here, by my mother’s side.

The Anointed.