The Setting Sun

 

Four months ago my Dad said goodnight,

But didn't wake up.

Four months ago he slipped away,

Peacefully entering his long house.

The voice of the man who had set the bar

Against which all Fathers will forever be measured,

Would now only be heard

In the silent whispers my mind plays in stereo.

But words of consequence will always

Find a way to hit their mark.

Wisdom knows its purpose.

I had convinced myself that

The warmth of our final resolution

Would fashion a gentle landing.

But truth be told,

Those thoughts so fresh and bold,

Could only shield a heart for so long.

Loss can be felt in so many ways,

Yet every way is consuming,

Taking you to places

Where sadness reigns and rains.

No words of comfort can ever fill

The chasm that absence has created;

And yet their gentleness

Can help you build the bridge

That lifts you above the void.

I have learned to succumb

To the winding road of grief;

To conquer this emotional rollercoaster,

Emerging with the hope

That understanding will fashion healing.

His voice often whispers to me

In silent moments of reflection.

Words of strength and love.

Words that guide and nurture.

Words that drive me forward,

Onward, ever onward,

Until I will face my own setting sun.

I Miss You Dad

 

I miss you Dad.

I miss talking to you on the phone,

Even when you couldn't hear me.

I miss the quiet confidence 

Of knowing  you'd always pick up.

I miss hearing the wisdom

Borne of a thousand conversations.

I miss hearing that change in tone

As you spoke about your girl.

I miss seeing you

Hold the door.

I miss the comfort of having you

Always in my court.

I miss sparring with the man

Who taught me how to think.

I miss the blanket of love

That encased each and every second.

I miss you.

I miss you.

I love you.

The Letter

 

He wrote me a letter,

His last goodbye.

He wrote me a letter;

Final words to help me fly.

I've tried to picture that day,

When pen was put to paper.

Imagined what was in his heart;

This immense man and mentor.

I've read the words so many times,

Traced the words across his lips.

Sunk completely under their spell,

Protection against the slip.

A man of sixty years,

Transformed into a child once more,

Hanging on every word,

Guided by life's pure score.

Every word of truth hit deep,

The centre found its arrow.

Emotions crafted in love divine,

A shield against the sorrow.

The pride, the love, the challenge;

The joy, the path, a reminder.

The bond created from obligation,

To live a life of honour.

Words wrapped in pure love,

And topped with a crowning bill.

A message for a lifetime,

A purpose to fulfil.

Words now forever etched,

Clear in their direction and part.

A gift of endless strength,

To comfort an aching heart.

Super day Dad!

Just super beyond compare!

Each future dawn will bring me light,

Because you were always there.

I love you.

Present, Present, and Presenting

 

Present, present, and presenting,

As only gifts borne of love can relay.

Warm, warming, and warmer,

More fair than the fairest summer day.

Deep, deepest, and deeper,

Than any bore may conjure.

Connect, connected, and connecting,

From the place that fashions pure.

Long, longer and longing,

That this bond will never waver.

Honours, honoured, and honouring

The true feelings that never haver.

Yesterday, Today, Tomorrow

 

Yesterday, today, and tomorrow,

From dawns first light to evening gloam,

From opening salvo to the final note,

Your love will always bring me home.

Always, forever, and eternal,

From tender kiss to comfort's warm embrace,

From lingering gaze to love's knowing glance,

Your presence my life will trace.

Entwined, enjoined, and connected,

From first touch to loving bold,

From secrets shared and fears admitted,

This bond will never grow old.

Open, naked, and transparent,

Souls laid bare for the moon and sun,

United in ways only they can imagine,

Providing, protecting, as one.

4000 miles

I watched you watch him die,

4000 miles away.

I watched you watch him die,

Each note or call

Received with trepidation,

Hoping for the best,

Fearing the worst.

I watched you watch him struggle,

Fighting to his dying breath.

I watched you watch him struggle,

Forever the rock that stood

A guardian to your love.

Steadfast in dignity,

Silent suffering etched upon his brow.

He passed on a sunny morning,

But no sun shone that day;

Just pools of heartache gathering deep

As his hand slipped from your own.

You had nursed him,

And in those waning days,

Your strength was a match for his.

 

Crescendo

 

Notes that danced upon my heart,

That's how it felt.

A song my ears had ne'er heard,

Yet as welcoming as a Mother's whisper.

A swirling wave of endless warmth,

Encircling my very soul.

A sound so powerful and bold,

A shield against the world.

 

How was one life created with the beauty,

To adorn every song book?

How does one life beat with such a rhythm,

To cradle the heart with eternal love?

How easily do those notes surround and enter,

Every facet of your life?

How rich your own love story,

When love's music conquers all.

 

Our lives dance forever along the song sheet,

Sometimes a solo, but always a duet.

The key may change from time to time,

But our beat pulses in synchronous joy.

For when love is based on such pure tones,

And chords that always connect,

The melody that shields and protects,

Will never let you fall.