I see them weepThe fathers at the stones Taking off the brave armourForced to wear in the workplaceClearing away the debrisWith gentle fingersInhaling the sorrowDiminished by anguishTheir hearts desiring what they cannot haveTo walk hand in handWith children no longer heldTo all the fathers who leave a part
Of their hearts at the stonesMay breezes underneath trees of time
Ease their painAs they receive healing tears . . . the gift the children give.
~ Alice J. Wisler
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