My Father's Eyes

Limpid pools of amber lights they glistened like precious gems in their sockets. I remember them well those sparkling eyes nesting gracefully in my dad’s aged face. Those eyes witnessed many moons now reflecting gifted wisdom shown on an old man’s face forever smiling lips in old man’s head when he shared the beauty his eyes beheld. Once the eyes of a warrior a hunter of prey stalking wild life and myths in the darkness of night his headlamp lighting the way visions he shared in his stories to us kids with a hunter’s pride and a stutter in his voice. The last time I adored them it was at Easter he gazed down from the stair where he sat his eyes shone bright with admiration while looking at the first and second generations of his seed adoring his fold a vision of pride he would forever hold to accompany him on his journey home. And when next I saw him he had been given his last rights his body posed in rested pause while his spirit soared on Its final hunt journeying home. The amber eyes I knew and loved the windows to his soul now shut closed for good. The memory of them I’ll always keep cause they once regarded me with love and awe. My father’s amber eyes.