My Father

~ 

He dreamed of the ocean,

     He said he always would,

And when the hours turned into days

     He'd be dreaming still

Of foamy seas and ash blue skies

     Of travels far beyond

Of whispers heard in the night

     of some forgotten song

Of days spent quietly and alone,

     While all the world traversed

The wild wanderings of the soul,

     He would be rehearsed

In suspension of the intellect

     while magical forces took hold

To carry him to oceans

     Only he had known before.

- S.K.Lindeman