With delicate folds in corners, eyes crinkled with kindness as they met mine.
Always tender-hearted, he loved me with a nurturing nature gentle and fine.
Full of mirth and warmth, his face would light up with laughter and a smile.
Patient and steadfast, his temper was something that I could never rile.

In his older age, I drifted away; I became a distant fragment of a memory.
I cannot help but to lament the time we never got to have as a part of our history.
Self-absorbed and lost in my own time and space, I failed my blood and my kin.
His time came swiftly; I will never know if forgiveness is a place we can live in.

If only insight could have grown before the grass began to yellow and fade.
The folly of my ignorance has been cast a shadow over by time; it is something I cannot evade.
In time, I believed the sun would shine and restore the grass with its light.
When I get to see it, I believe my soul will leap and take flight.

Oh, the indelible mark of his departure; blood ties could never be rearranged.
What family does mean to me is difficult to delineate, but could never be changed.
When I imagine him looking down upon me, I know he lives on somewhere safe and divine.
Somewhere, in distant and close-by spaces, I know his spirit and soul still shines.