A Tribute To My Father

Some get him difficult to live with, and cold.
Some are far luckier by chance and choice.
Some remain without his loving hand to hold.
Some live to never know his guiding voice.

Little thought goes into his role,
Most often taken for granted.
In his providing roof and stole,
His name is barely chanted.

In the need for security and love,
For protection far beyond home;
He lifts you, way up and above
The meanders of worldly roam.

Talking to him gives strength.
He is God's own catalog on life.
He adapts to detail and length,
Your path, to keep away strife.

Father is the canopy of bliss.
A bower of shade and cool.
He is God's empowering kiss,
In life's demanding school.

He guides your every taken chance.
He tutors in the School of Breath.
His are the toes to learn first dance.
He redirects the snares of death.

Father is the giver of life and form.
He compliments warmth of womb.
He weathers with you every storm.
He keeps away the grey of gloom.

This one is for you my dad,
I really, really love you so.
Your presence makes me glad,
Knowing just how far to go.

With the flame you provide,
With your caring nod;
With your hand to beat tide,
I get a glimpse of God.