I took my daughter Beth to our backyard apple tree
where lambent sunshine chased soft-sung sparrows.
I hadn't shown my face here forever.
Many skies ago I purposed to Savannah
her delicate figure resting on textured bark,
harmonious with what serenity offered.
Echoes now drum straight through my heart
taunting and triggering what-if's.
The one saint who became my motivation
evaporated like a dying star
who never had her chance to truly shine.
I brought my avid friend along for support,
she was all I held dear now.
A sweet and inquisitive voice sprang up
among deeply-sewn gaudy green grass.
"Daddy, why does the sun go down at night?"
I smiled slightly, stretching my age-worn legs.
"Well...it must rest and return home. The job is done
and it understands the moon must shed its light.
It knows we need a break too, so we can sleep."
Beth rolled over onto her stomach, swinging her ankles.
"But the leaves on trees? Why do they fall?"
Moments such as these warmed my heart.
How lucky I was to call Beth my own girl.
"Well...they have to huddle close on the ground
for warmth in winter, but they leave
the tree when it has brought two people together."
"You mean, in love?" A giggle emerged from thin lips.
I bit back bittersweet surges, simply nodding in agreement.
"One more question Daddy. How do apples know to fall after time?"
My little angel whispered her carefully chosen words with reverence.
I answered, a tender tingle tickling my skin.
"Well...we are a lot like those fruit.
We mature by experience and play,
and eventually ripen to wise individuals.
God hands those honest apples out to the world,
when He knows they are ready."
I practically glowed. I adored these heart-from-heart openings.
"Are you ready?" Beth's quite tone whispered.
I touched her pallid hand and pointed to fine-whipped clouds.
"See those clouds? You know you are ready for anything
when you see your hopes and dreams etched in each curve."
Silence.
We laid there all day that Sunday afternoon;
not only watching for bright signals
but waiting...
We would let go very soon, like an attached child
trying to free her friend, the blue balloon.
