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Sonrise
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Sonrise |
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qwertyportne Junior Member
since 2010-03-04
Posts 19CA |
We are running through the tall pines of a forest when the sun bursts over the horizon, releasing the earth from the soft, subtle glow of dawn. That sunrise, those colors... I think... that's how I feel about him. The trail meanders through the amber forest like an earthy ribbon, its twisting path barely hinting at what lies beyond the next turn. It is an unpredictable trail, as life is, with steep climbs, sudden drops and rocky footing. Rugged and demanding, yet beautiful. "Sometimes I think I have been like this trail, Son, perhaps a bit too well-marked. I'm not holding you back, am I?" "No more than this trail, Dad." "Well, OK, but maybe you'd like to lead for a while." "Sure, but can you keep up?" he teases. I step aside and say nothing, but see the smile on his face as he passes. Our feet striking the frozen leaves create a pleasing rhythm of soft, crunching noises that draws my attention to his stride -- it equals my own. The trail crosses a gurgling stream coming out of the rocks, then forks into two divergent paths. He prances through the stream and veers to the left without hesitation, but the icy water bites sharply into my legs, returning my thoughts to the hazards of the trail. "You sure you know where you're going?" I ask. "Yep!" comes his confident reply. The smell of juniper and pine greet us from the sun-baked ridge below. As we run, father and son, I slip into the shadows of yesterday, when my father led me down a mountain trail. In those shadows he is mute -- I never knew him. The shadows clear as we come to a meadow filled with glistening morning glory and purple lupine. The moisture on the flowers sparkles in the sunlight like a zillion tiny stars. "Look at that indian paintbrush." I point. "Warriors guarding the trail, Dad. Every petal is a feather won for bravery." The power and depth of his imagination silences me. As we run over a ridge and into the valley below, I see his mother waiting by the car. He waves to her, calls the dog, then runs off with it chasing him, wagging its tail. "Hi. Did you have to wait long?" "No, not long." she answers. "How was the run?" "Fine." I say, looking into her eyes. "You know, he's going to be OK." "And so are we." she adds, returning my gaze. We stand there holding hands and watching him disappear into the forest, knowing he is no longer bound by the limitations of our example. "He knows where he's going." I say, trying to sound reassuring. "He will paint his own picture of who he is and pass it on to others. And those subtle brush strokes that are you and me will live on in him." "I just hope he understands how deeply he has touched our lives." she says, so softly it is almost a whisper... --Bill |
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JamesMichael Member Empyrean
since 1999-11-16
Posts 33336Kapolei, Hawaii, USA |
Enjoyed...James |
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