April is Upon Us

April is upon us

Spring has arrived to my City of Trees.

With every morning walk new colors emerge,

Scents of star Jasmin or Lindon tree

Sweet, stinging scents that float on the breeze.

I most often look up as I move deep in thought

perhaps of brunch, or love, work.....

My Father.

"He is very ill" My inner voice reminds,

but my feet don't seem to know

I skip or dance, picking flowers along they way

adding colors to my vibrant hair.

"He is fading" My inner voice whispers

in somber floating tone...

but my throat does not pay mind

I sing a Celtic tune

I speak to birds, to cats, to sky...

"But... He will never see you in white"

The voice sobs...cracks...

I stop.

I listen.

I pick up a twig that lays before me.

I move on.

"He..." The voice trembles...

shakes....

the rattle of a hundred leaves

The wind kissing my face

a small comfort to the words that follow....

"He will never know your children...."

My eyes hear this

I feel the tear

growing cold in the breeze

but my mouth will not listen.

it smiles.

I smile.

and I move.

Forward.

Knowing.

Hearing.

The voice speaks....

My voice speaks

"I love him, and he knows it."

The voice is at peace.