Is the Answer Blowing In the Wind

Remembering my Dad Walking home in the warm breeze Wafting memories As if that same wind Had blown through our vacations Places we traveled When I was little And we used to go camping Or other roadtrips I recalled the Past Back when it was The Present How it felt then When time stood so still When I wanted to "grow up" Lacking gratitude But full of wonder: With a sky like that, where's God? He must be up there? Now I wonder, too, Having learned more about God Where is my Dad now? Did he feel that breeze? Does he get to shoot the breeze? Or fly through the breeze? Ruah: "breath, air wind" (My big Catechism says) A comforting thought