Does the sun still shine father?
For the shadows now fill my room.
Yes dear, the sun still doth shine.
But Father, what of my garden?
Are my roses still in bloom?
Yes my dear, they are beautiful,
Everything looks just fine.
Well why oh, father,
Why do you sound so sad?
Is it because of me?
I do hope that you are not mad.
No my dear, I am not mad
And it is not because of you.
For you see my child,
I just realized that I have been an old fool.
For I, with health, with sight and ability to breathe,
Have failed to realize the inner strength to which you cleave.
Strength Father? But I am weak.
For my eyes grow dim and my breath be labored
And often, I am even unable to speak.
Your strength my child, is not that of thy physical being,
But that of thy spirit which soars beyond our mortal realm
And into that which is all knowing, all seeing.
Yes my dear!
Though I do not fear
I feel the silence as it grows near.
Though I cannot see
I sense a light drawing nearer to me.
Yet still, I wish not to die,
For even now, I know that you cry.
Yes my child, it is true that I do so weep,
For if I could, my life I would give,
In order for yours to keep.
Father, please come near, and take hold of my hand,
Tend me my garden, and plant for me a smile.
For this room is now in full bloom with a hundred angels
From our heavenly Fathers promised land.
I am here baby. I am here.
And I hold more than thy hand.
For your heart is forever with me
And mine will always be with thee.
J. Allen Wilson © 2005