Echoes Of My Father Poem by Mirela Athanas

If you ever hear a bird's song,
Singing mightily and it is not Spring,
Know that it is a love so strong,
The one of my father echoing me;

If you see a swallow return,
In the Winter's snow and cold,
Twittering by a roof's lantern,
It's where my father's echoes unfold;

He is always somewhere singing,
In all the places, home or above,
Ever where he is now living,
He will always echo his love;

How else would he, but with his voice,
The most beautiful gift he owned,
Heavenly brought and a holy choice,
Which will eternally sing alone.

He was so gentle, daring, loving, caring,
Full of fun and laughs and passion and art,
Who taught us the dignity of love sharing,
And protected us with the warmest heart;

I would wonder if when he is gone,
Far from the world in quiet and peace,
Would he stay in heaven with God,
Or would he travel to see us and flee;

I would say if he is up there, somewhere,
And there was a way back home, to fly,
To send us love and to say I'm here,
He'd make his home the traveled sky;

He loved us so much, was our foundation,
He taught us to be kind and sweet,
With his own example and dedication,
We deep in our hearts carry his heartbeats.

He would travel miles to see someone,
Just to say hello for one more time,
And to talk, and to love, and to laugh,
And to raise a glass in honor of life;

Thus, I would not wonder but reflect,
That it's possible, the Echoes of my father,
Would come across at least expected,
Like a swallow coming home to marvel,
Joyfully twittering in the midst of snow flakes.