fathers and their children

In My Father's Eyes
(by Eric Clapton)

by stu pidasso

23Feb2011

My office wall is adorned

with three separate portraits

of the same man,

whose stress on my life

is still being realized.

His father was a junior

making him "the third".

He used the Roman numeral three

as his mark quite frequently.

I see that figure often now

standing resolute in my mind.

Those three pillars,

upright and strong,

are my symbol of how he was

and how I wish to be.

Wisdom comes with age.

Age comes with time.

Time is what we wish we had used better

once we are older and wiser.

I get my advice from him these days,

by reflecting upon his life,

savoring every juicy bit

of example he did provide

by living a life I can

now appreciate and respect.

I just wish I had taken the time

to let his words linger in my ears,

to notice the work he produced

with his able hands and body,

to ask about the origins

of his convictions.

I wish I could look

in my father's eyes

and tell him how much

I respect and miss him now.

And, I hope that my son

does not let pass

the same chances

to talk to me.