Greeting Dad

Dad slipped away quietly in his sleep today. He was 88. Now he and Mom are reunited and as joyful as two butterflies I watched circling each other as they rose straight up towards the shining sun. I wrote this poem in April 2003.

Greeting Dad

I am older than that Trickster Time

and his mercurial Mother Nature-

older than the stars and Earth

in continuous, evolving creation

with its dramas of rebirth.

I am part of ageless Spirit-

even in this ever-aging body of mine.

Yet when I greet my Dad

I become a child of three

with love-bright eyes and trusting hand.

He’s a humble man of inner strengths,

inspiring and reminding.

I’ve watched his quiet patience

master time and circumstance.

Dad is the northern wilderness to me,

the forests, the water, and the land I love.

Like a little child I see

through my heart when I greet Dad.