I see your light
Seems impossible
You are no longer here-
I cannot hear your voice
Or hold your hand
Hands rough from years
Of hard work-carpentry
I see your light
As surely as the
Smell of sawdust
From freshly cut wood
Carries me back to
My childhood and you
Just getting home from work
I see your light
In everything you built
A tiny birdhouse
Your grandson’s toybox
Our family home
Churches near and far
I see your light
Reflected in all those
You loved so dearly-
How I wish
I could see your face

How I miss my sweet Dad! There are tears some days. But there are precious memories everyday. ❤️

I wrote this poem in a recent poetry circle. Thankful for such a beautiful, safe space that allows me to be me.