Storyplace

Papa, if you hear me by something2say

I remember you now as a dream. A liebestraum. Fuzzy around the edges and only a remnant of all the pretty things. Only the last glimmering of water, so low, to prove how full the well once was. I’ve lost so many moments. Forgotten more than I’ve forgotten. But the feeling remains. My hand is yours. Always my hand is yours. My greatest friend forever. That all the ways in which I grow are seeds you planted inside of me. Endlessly my inspiration. A father in everything. In words said and words that never need be. In action and deed. In guidance. In release. Never believing us to be vessels to simply see yourself in but hoping, in us, to see the world. Through us. Our time stretching out ahead faster than we could follow. Like stars shinning long after they’ve gone. I remember you as a dream. A love dream. However the time. However the moments. However the light fades. The feeling remains.