Where My Father Sat

There I sat, the same old place

My father spent his quiet space

The chair was new, the pictures changed

But the silence felt the same

I was younger, still figuring out

He was gone, but not without

Leavin' traces in the air

Like his ghost still lived in there

I wasn’t tryin’ to be the man he was

Just wanted to feel what he left in the dust

No need to outrun, no race to begin

Just sittin’ where he sat, takin’ it in

There’s a weight in a moment, a truth in the past

And I was holdin’ both in my hands at last

Not to outdo or outmatch

Just to sit…

Where my father sat

The rent was paid, but it wasn’t mine

Just a borrowed space, a borrowed time

I didn’t know where the road would go

But I knew I couldn’t stay too long below

Still it meant more than I understood

To breathe that air and know I could

Feel him there without a word

Like the chair itself had heard

I wasn’t tryin’ to live up to a name

Just tracing the shape of where I came

No torch to steal, no fire to fan

Just learning how to be a man

There’s wisdom in stillness, in not swingin’ back

In sittin’ through storms that never cracked

And if I ever learn what he had…

It started

Where my father sat

I don’t wear his boots, but I walk with grace

I don’t speak like him, but I feel that place

And I know when I’m still and the world goes black

That I’m not too far

From where he was at

I wasn’t tryin’ to fill his shoes

Just learn the ground he walked me through

No need to shine where he cast light

Just be enough to make it right

And maybe one day, if I raise a son,

He’ll sit here too when I’m gone and done

Not to be me — just to grasp

What it meant…

Where his father sat.