Dear Dad,
It’s the month you were born in and why I have the name I do,
Do you ever think of me? I often think of you.
Black cat, named Blackie, fireplaces and tire swings,
Zip line, candy bars, hitting a house in reverse while you and Mom were arguing,
Expansive stars,
Laughter and acoustic guitars,
Your jean jacket jingled decorated with AA chips,
A soldier of sobriety, your best friend was named Kip,
Kip and Kristine knew karate,
You were well versed in cooking amazing food and human anatomy,
Bags of hamburgers, white rain shampoo,
a single teardrop, your only tattoo.
Exploring an icy cave in the middle of summer,
Getting to play with your neighbor’s gallon load super soaker.
Do you remember the day that I went to work with you?
You gave me butterscotch pudding and an elderly woman braided your long hair in two.
You gave so much love and care to so many,
It’s sad to me, how you couldn’t give yourself any.
For a time, I was scared I would burn out just like you,
Gradually my life revealed that to not be true,
But I will always carry the music and the servant’s heart,
The boundless dreams, reality and the endless stars.
Faithful Fractals: Poetic Prayers 