He was a father

He was a father to many sons
A father to fathers who father sons
He had no name and yet he was my name
His life is a legacy beyond the grave
Even if you take away his presence you can never take away his face
etched and mounted in the heart of my eye
His voice resounds with the waking sun
I sat on the wings of the morning conversing with the winds of mourning about a love lost to the seeing eye
I sat on morning's wings mounted and strengthened by a love I have found in the memories of your laugh
At the awakening of your death I found a handle on strength and cried in the offence
The only thing I lost at your death is fear: the fear to live a life poured out to the glory of the Father to the fatherless