My father was a man
I never knew
I arrived as he was
that day
and we became
ourselves
together

How strange it were
his memories lace
my experience
Pushed and pulled
his entire life
into each moment
with me

We share a heritage
A bell rings
I hear it
still
A call to my own
I love to hear
you sing

I smell lavender
we turn off
East Lane
His hand is on the
bike seat
He guides it
one-handed
I want to be like you
then
I want to be like you
still
You have always had
such
lovely eyes

It matters not
that he is good
we love because we are
loved
This heritage of grace
that we share
I love to hear
you sing

I want to be like you
because you are like
another
I feel no pressure
only joy
For a man to seek to be
as his Father
is a very great honour
indeed