My tiny hand held tightly to the grasp of my fathers large fingers.
How strong the world felt in his hands.
Safe from all harm.
His strength would be my guide.
I would feel the warmth and tenderness,
In each loving gesture,
As he held my hand in his.
Have no fear papa will take care of you.
He swung his arms wide around me.
Up I went into the air,
To be but gently placed on my father's shoulders.
The entire world was set out before me.
He waved his hands into the crowd.
Look and see the world is there for you.
Tall I felt towering over the crowd.
How simple everything looked on my father's shoulders.
Strong I was, fear nothing papa is here.
But still the world was a great deal larger than I could see.
The more I learned the stronger I felt.
The taller I became the more I understood.
But in the entire world,
I could not see better than I would on my father's shoulders.
Or could I see what my papa saw through his eyes.
Tell me papa?
I held my son tight,
Loving him all the while.
We took him to the shore.
My tiny young man held out his fingers over the ocean.
Look Dad, at all I can see.
How strong he looked on his Dad's shoulders.
But oh how precious the moment.
I could not see what he saw across the sea.
Some how I understood his vision.
As the sun left the sky along the blank canvas,
The last blade of light left the clearest thought.
I had to remember papa.
Can you hear me papa?
My youth has left me older but wiser.
I see my life was the view and I was the story.
Grateful am I who has lived my tale.
I still look longing for the answers,
But the longing remains.
Papa, look at what I can do,
Papa, I am old and gray.
Papa I can see you need me.
Papa I have a story.
You see my eyes have a lot of heart.
My hands have a lot of love.
You may e-mail me.
At: thoughtwriter@hotmail.com
