Daddy smiled and called me his ‘broken winged child’. I can feel his smile from a distance as I let go of his strong hand, running into the woods.
My eyes look back, upon him, lost within a reel of moments, made crystalline by the hand of time. When the moments pass, as the seasons do, it’s the small intimate remembrances, which spread and fill the vast space where they once stood.
The child I was, is the same child I have become, by the strength of his hands, rugged when needed, yet gentle when I needed.
I watched him with wood – chopping, carving, painting. Making fires, planting gardens and trees, smoking fine tobacco in his pipe. He taught me to use a fishing knife to filet catfish and bluegill in summer. And when autumn came, he let me use the same knife to carve my jack-o-lantern for Halloween.
When we camped, he took me fishing under an autumn moon as the rhythm of water thrashed a cadence of echoes against the trees. I loved the crankbaits with shimmery colors and the feathery lures in his tacklebox. He taught me how to hook my first nightcrawler. I was afraid, but he kept his eye on me and I wanted to make him proud.
His fingers wrapped around my hand, so many times, I can still feel them upon mine. His strength was patient as he guided me. I saw the pride and love in his eyes as he watched me grow. He was a quiet man with quiet thoughts but wielded kind words when speaking of others.
He loved Christmas time. Watching the families gather together, their joyful voices rang bright with greetings of love. It was enough to carry you through the year. Pressing a warmth against the shadows we collect.
I have since grown but I can hear my father’s words to me…
~ You live in a place that people left a long time ago, with sun faded moments and timeless spells.
Your love resides in fathomless longing. You will reach for a man who hides in shadow and storm, just to watch you shine.
You hear the dreams of angels, whispering to us as we find our way home.
Weaving a sibylline story where our light engraves the secrets of our being upon the ancient mountains, forests and deep seas; so, we may never lose course on our watch.
He tells me to see beyond fear, if I ever stumble at the gates of darkness, tethered by the very wings that will release me.
My girl, my broken winged child…always hopeful as you search for answers, one was never meant to find here.
‘One wing, flies in the age of man and one wing, flies beyond the veil.’
Forged from the seed of a beloved union.
For a time, our shadows walk towards the lingering light. And then, one day we are precious memories to someone, as our love rides the wings of eternity ~
