The mire of the muldane, no longer slows his footfalls,
Through forest of freedom, blossoming spring forever.
Spontaneous memories leap out of the dark sea & glisten;
then slide back into the inky depths that penned our relationship.
Remembering spilled tears,yes, but also shaped smiles.
Like sweet times with grandchildren styling papa's hair,
or rousing dialogue of polities or scripture or helpful advice.
Let soft thoughts such as these cradle you in angel feathers,
whenever clouds sponge away the color from heaven.
This seperation is a veil that will be lifted in time.
the fog has lifted my father--- the sun is not obscured.
Today my dad is one with God.
And he touches us in every gentle breeze....
By Steve |
