Though the paths I see
Attain neither peak nor pass
Trapped in this valley of lassitude
When I needed reassurance
Or wandered too close to peril
To share the warmth of a loving gesture
The subtle lessons
A mother teaches her child
With unconscious intention
Her giving hand
Always at the ready
For mine to grasp
In a mind
Bent on manipulating them
To serve the present
That’s all there is
Within my mind
Naught but the sound
Of wheels on pavement
As my body cleaves
The warm still air
The undulations
Of the path
The gentle song
My spirit sings
What else could I need
In the absence
Recollections induce the bittersweet
With time, perhaps, becoming less bitter than sweet
Losses lightened
By the moments, words and images
We’ve captured
The joys once lived
Remain in our memories
And in our hearts
In the empty spaces
Something new, perhaps
Something new to love
These are the affirmations
With which we keep hope alive
And find in ourselves
The tenacity to persevere
This is how we establish
Purpose and meaning
Our reason for being
No matter the undertaking
These beacons
Were not set by fate
Nor any divine intervention
But by our own dreams
A life without dreams
Is a life of darkness
A blackened terrain
Unmarked by beacons
Dreams create hope
Hope creates purpose
Purpose creates meaning
Meaning lights the beacons
I remember days long past
Of sunshine and calm
Depths still clear
At forty feet
The rod held
Expectantly
In your son’s hands
Paddle in yours
The strokes
A gentle
Powerful
Grace
You didn’t care for fishing
But I did
So out we went
My youth
A stream of summer memories
New England lakes
Bass and wallabies
A pickerel here and there
The perch and sunnies
Disdainfully thrown back
Paddling today
On a perfect day
I reflect on those times
And the times that would follow
Times of storms and dark clouds
Murky shallows
When we were not always
So gentle with each other
Awkward
Sometimes graceless
The depth of you
Forever unreachable
But still I knew you
As the father who’d take me out
For no more than the pleasure
Of my pleasure
That is
I knew
Always
That you loved me
You’ve been gone now
For longer than I ever had you
For your eulogy
I used the metaphor
Of the missing wingman
A natural for the pilot father
But on this day
Of sunshine and calm
Of depth and clarity
I notice a second paddle
Laying against the empty seat
Wishing your hands were upon it
So that once again
We could take on this task of living
With the harmony of paddling
Together
Pix to Words 