Time in an old elevator.. Dad.. Mom.. back and forth.. when a child in New York.. seasons of the North..
Father of blood alive.. dreaming father dreams.. taught me things without a word.. smiled love through sunbeams..
Gentle artist true.. Bohemia and art.. Father kept a focus.. never came apart..
Mother found a man for life.. always good and true.. Step Father fine.. a sister.. strength for dreams painted blue..
Dad know I remember.. be you spirit.. be you gone.. my lifetime at your service.. infinite.. anon..
Thought.. ‘yes, difficulties may arise when one does not know their Father.. (or Mother).. yet, even in ‘social bitterness’.. parents pass a unique genetic gift in time.. that you may give what you have.. adding to what is endemic..
When my world jumps into childish impatience.. when all appears lost.. when survival becomes madness.. I found.. sometimes discovered family sacrifices and compassionate love.. when one feels threatened.. family knows how and why.. what I need to hope!
‘I never judge strangers for they have a weight in their time.. on their paths.. unknown to me’..
Though difficulties.. personal.. from friends.. or action from faceless bureaucracy arise to challenge me.. genetic makeup sustains when nothing else does..
My life is a gift from my parents.. had I not known them.. the gift of living would still stand alone as opportunity unique..