My Guiding Light


A haze engulfs him. Looking out, surveying the surroundings
for a clue to his whereabouts. He finds himself lost...
A light appears in the distance as if calling out with a warm embrace
He trudges on toward the light, ever distant yet drawing him in,
He wanders on. A cloud appears in the distance quickly engulfing him.
The storm arrives with the ferocity of a hurricane, the power of
a lightning storm and the pestilence of swarming mosquitoes.
The silent man curls into a ball as if to protect himself from
the onslaught. The light appears once again, penetrating through the
darkness surrounding him, giving him the courage, strength
and mental fortitude to press on. A warmth fills his core,
as the as the cold wind tries to strip him of this comfort.
Struggling onward toward the light as the storm tosses him to & fro
as if a rag-doll. The light grows brighter and so too does his inner
feeling of warmth, comfort and contentment
despite the raging storm around him.
A shadow appears beneath the light as the man presses on.
Closer and closer until he recognizes the shadow. His father.
The two embrace, words unnecessary as each understands the other
in ways words are incapable of conveying.
He again looks up at the man before him... "Thanks dad"...
His only response, "I figured I would leave the light on for you,"
he says with a grin that only a father and son would appreciate.
He turns his headlight off as they move to the safety of their tent.
My Father: The guiding Light.
In memory of my father David Edward Coleman 1953-2014

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