There are days when the wind blows:
I hear your voice calling my name;
Your footsteps fall on pine needles
In the same break and tempo as mine;
I see your image in a green lake
Feeding ducks with smiling children;
I feel your father’s heartbreak
When Little Miss Magic cries.
There are days when the wind blows:
It carries my voice to heaven calling you,
While I walk the places we used to walk
Where leaves crushed beneath our feet,
Where sand squished between our toes,
When dreams were built in an hour,
When I laughed at your jokes and
Stroked the hair from your brow.
There are days when the wind blows:
I feel pain and joy at your birth.
My heart breaks again from the unspeakable
Which paralyzed my mind,
And stole the rock I leaned upon,
Taking my faith for a moment.
But it’s faith which brought me back
To the memories which bind us forevermore.
© copyright 2017…..Phyllis Rogers
A lovely, moving and heart-rending poem, Phyllis. Beautifully phrased and the repetition emphasises its powerful effect.
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Thank you so much, Roland. It will be 20 years in February since he died. He is my oldest child and would be 51 years old today if he were still here.
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