I am looking at you daddy
as I am standing on the hill top
admiring the patchwork countryside.
The rugged lines that curve about your face
become the worn out network of used paths.
Gently caressing the soft slopes,
easily conquering he rocky terrains.
The loving breeze, like a feather,
gently brushing the quivering landscape.
The breeze, a patient father,
arms wrapped around his frightened child.
And when the angry storm lectures the pensive wildlife,
it is your voice I hear
singing me to sleep.
The lone nightmare serenading the fragile rose.
Your watery eyes, the puddles, the lakes
so deep and unexplored.
The surface broken yet remains clam for all,
with currents of emotion lurking.
Ready to Swirl.
So I am looking at you daddy,
in the way I gaze at such beauty
Carefully. With need. With love.