| Howling Winds |
| As I watched my son, dapper as they come, walk down our walkway and into manhood, what I remember most is the rushing wind. I'd seen such winds before, but never like this; My old foe was pulling up trees by the roots, So I watched, but I watched alone. As the winds raged on and the mighty palms bowed, a single leaf from our Winter bare Ficus Tree held tough against the ferocious storm; It fought valiantly against the angry gale, as though hanging on Just to witness the changing of the guard, So I stood, but I stood alone. Like that solitary leaf, all my life I've fought the ferocious winds, and now they’ve returned, this mighty foe, poised to seize the hopes and dreams of my only son, So I watched, but I watched alone. But then, posterity glanced back and squared its shoulders, beat back hopelessness as it danced through fields of ivy, then spread its wings and rode those howling winds over yonder mountaintop. So I wept, but I wept with a crowd. Eric L. Wattree |
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| LEGACY |
| Neither scholar nor the head of state, The most common of men seems to be my fate; A life blistered with struggle and constant need, As my legacy to man I present my seed. More fertile, more sturdy they both than I, This withered old vine left fallow and dry; The nectar of their roots lie dormant still, But through their fruit I'll be revealed. Eric L. Wattree |
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