Generations

a Father’s Day reflection

Let me look out and see the coming of the tide in the eyes of my child,
Let me hold out my hands, cupped, ready to drink-in his imagination,
Let me let him leave on the wings of a day’s horizon –
Let me imbibe the story of his passing—the story of my passing—
                                                                                                Let me be old,
Then, let me die in the evening tide of my grandchild’s wake.