The smell of winter.

Darkness arrives early this time of year.

Time passes slow.

The sound of my voice is clearer as the wind silences the world.

What is it about the oncoming peace that leaves my heart confused? The calm on the waters is soothing as my mind races far into the future, doubling back and charging through the barrier of time… flimsy really… for one can always venture into the past, the future is what leaves us in shadow…

There is a calling from within the mist of the shadow… hearing what we know, yet understanding as one would a lost language… or understanding as one would a smile… sad is the voice from within… as is the look in the eyes of my dying father… Did he know he was going to die that night? The look in his eyes say yes. Yes… yet it was just a dream, another lost memory, just another dream. It fades…

Fading as are the years one ventures away from the sound of his voice, or is it my voice… Can I hear the difference?  Do I know of what I speak? Is this really about him? Or is it really about me? Just another vision, just another dream, just another tear which falls to my feet…

The ground is cold beneath my feet… I stand before the calm shore and the moon glistens its light upon the waters… darkest night so full of light… where is my vision? where is my sight? I turn to find my father by my side… the bitter calm of winter… he smiles… he is here again, for now… then why am I so sad?

Because these are just more words coming from my head… more words… or simply another dream… Yes… it was just a dream, another lost memory, just another dream… coming from my head

Dad