December 15, 2017
starrise

O durable love of whom it is said: nothing can break the pottery of your vessel. My sadden spirit climbed into my moment of far a way eyes. I was counting the grains of sand on a beach as I looked out of my eyes as if to another world.

It was as if somehow, someway, I might in the imagination of my mind, find a secret number of count that would be a code to solve the stillness of love that possess the forest grove just over the way,where lived the one whose love had fallen silent.

He is my son who I loved more than my own soul. I would have died for him in a moment's decision if such a call had ever come.

As a little child I would put him in the wind up swing and play the guitar and sing to him: Honey boy, Honey boy, your my sweet and precious Honey boy.
Honey boy, honey boy, your my sweet and precious Honey boy.

I remember you little head so close to mine, I remember those wonderful. wonderful times,
Honey boy, honey boy, your my sweet and precious honey boy.


Don't go away boy I'm counting on you, to pick up the pieces when dad's time is through. Don't go away boy I'm counting on you.

We don't talk anymore, or write. I have lost a son and something major within me has died of hurt. Before he was born I dreamed of him and even named him.

Now there is a stillness, a stillness so deep, my spirit has cried my soul to sleep many a night.

The story of the how and why is too winding and complex to tell. My wife and daughters are with me with their forever love, and I do not take them for granted.

But my son, Oh, my son, he abides in a stillness of his love toward me. Our loves lie bleeding...but my son has a wife and four children and a good business. I love them and pray for him and his family and business, every day.

Sadly, there is a time for everything under the Sun: a time to cry, a time to miss someone, a time to hurt with un-healing wounds, a time of fade, when the voice you loved to hear, you hear no more, a time when silence works to erase your memories of the one you love, a time WHEN ONE'S LOVE, LIES STILL...in a living sleep, for which I pray an awakening, before I be gone to the far far away...

THE MANIFESTER YADA (speaking on the Jerry O. Lee, daddy side)

Category: 2012 Articles
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