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
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