80 Years a Mystery

Today –August 18th, 2016–would have been my father’s 80th birthday.

This week offered me little stillness to attend memories, but the universe gave me a few moments this morning

— and a very few lucid brain cells–

to open to any messages or significances.

 

 So it is that I simply and briefly honor him today,

The mystery and miracle of him.

The one who is now but a memory:

A collage of snapshots in my psyche,  

Gems in my treasure box,

Aches in my bones, bruises in my soul,

and Echoes of an hysterically clucking chicken and the a bar of soap clunking to the bath tub floor, as Daddy chicken lays another egg for his daughter, who giggles with inexhaustible delight from her perch on the toilet seat on the other side of the shower curtain.  

…The one who lives in my intelligence,

who heals and shines through this living heart, mind and body.

 bill christmas 19602aDSCN7425

 

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