My Dad

I'm putting this poem on here because Rachel met my Dad today and had seen him previously. I told her I'd put this on for you all to read. I wrote it almost 3 years ago.

Thanks for coming Rachel and family!




My Dad

An old man strolls humbly through the market.
The seriousness of his face is belied by
The twinkling of his faded blue eyes.

Two young teenagers spy the old man.
His clothes of red and green, and beard of snowy white,
Cause them to change direction.

It’s July.

Walking with his grown daughter he sees them.
Their surreptitious whispers reach his searching ears.
His steps slow.

Their courage gained, they boldly approach.
Are you him? they ask hoping his answer will keep
Their dream alive.

Two young boys,
Too old to believe,
Young enough to desire its truth.

Have you been good? he questions,
Seeing the truth in their expressive eyes.
Wide-eyed faces nod their assent.

One gleaming eye winks as a gentle smile crosses his face.
Worn loving hands disappear inside seemingly empty pockets.
Two sweet, striped canes pass into eager young hands.

Be good! he exclaims, then turns and rejoins his proud knowing daughter.
Whistling merrily, he resumes his absent search down the aisle,
Leaving behind,

Two believers.