Father

For his love I would do anything

Reading words on pages written in his hand

Becoming empty substitutes .

Without his hand to hold mine

I would lie awake and wonder

However far away 

Is he thinking of me?

Through his blood I am an artist

Memories of generations

 flowing through my veins .

Through his hands I am a writer 

the words flowing freely

upon the page.

Through his voice I am a singer

reaching out to the hearts of many

With his love

 too deep and wide to contain

I could do anything.