Father of Two

How fortunate to be a fruit now grown
That once was sown from a different tree
How you nursed me from the ground
How far we’ve come from that small drumbeat on an ultrasound

Arms that stay the same
Even as the seasons change
The first to ever hold me
And the last to let me down
Eyes wide open

Father, my oldest friend
Born of love, if not by blood
A word without an end
That began at my beginning
Spinning years fall like dust in my memories
Years fall like dust in my memories

Time has a trick of slipping through your fingers
Lingers on in moments hung suspended on the wall
And though there were times when tides were low
It’s good to know that eight strong legs trod water through it all

Eyes that stay the same
Even as our faces change
All the years you cared for me
And now I’ll care for you

Father, my oldest friend
Born of love, if not by blood
A word without an end
That began at my beginning
Spinning years fall like dust in my memories
Years fall like dust in my memories
Years fall like dust in my memories
Years burn like gold in my memories

Father of two
This one’s for you