Daddy, I reach up with my whole heart and gaze at you,
eyes widened, eager; wishing for your arm hanging there happenstance.
I am filled with hope and I itch
for you to hold my hand.
I linger, waiting, with another glance up at you.
Will you look down, will you grab my hand
a sudden tenderness?

Or will life pull you on toward the rush that ‘doing’ brings?

I planted a Cherry tree in memory of my father. He died five years ago May 19th. This is the first year I’ve gotten a few blooms, because I don’t prune it correctly.  I was always emotionally “reaching” for something from my dad, that infrequently came, whether it was holding my hand or just unscheduled time.
June 4, 2008

One thought on “Reaching

Thanks so much for reading and sharing.

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