Fact #12:


My adoptive father is from Wales, England & my adoptive mother is from Mexico.



The twins and I on this cooling evening
Skip down the trail on the farm
Hurrying our feet to warm ourselves
As dusk fills the crevasses of the evening.

It is the first evening of all
An occasional gold leaf signals electric
The coming end for everything green
Knowingly, the grass underfoot pleads for time.

Daddy do you see, the moon is a sliver!
Why daddy is it so small?
Where is it Daddy? Why does it point?
Their words slightly shiver in the cool air.

Anticipation is the feeling as we walk
Anticipation of the demise of all plant things
They seem weary in a way, ready to go, to sleep
But I don’t want them to go, I am not ready.

Daddy, Daddy see the first star in the sky?
Where, Baby, I don’t see it… YES I do!
It’s a diamond Daddy, isn’t it, see it?
Yes, Honey, it’s a diamond just like you!

The darkness seems to tell of the time of year
It is too early for darkness, my heart is still light
But I don’t run the seasons; they run me
And they say it is time and it is.

I bundle my coat a little tighter,
Fingers of cold pry into its seams
The twins play with their condensed breath
Look daddy, we smoke, see!

It isn’t too soon to contemplate in life
My autumn coming soon as knee joints click
Eyesight blurs, and breath is shortened.
Can I Slip into it with plant-like dignity?

The summer of my life has been good
I have produced and nurtured
Eight great fruits, some still on the vine
As life harvests, she will be pleased.

It’s cold and dark, Daddy, let’s go home!
As back down the country path we stroll.
The dog finds an old bone and drags his treasure along
The twins’ warm hands bring life again to my fingers.

Home is warmth and light and time for stories
Of our walk, the great adventure, as the twins tell
And I sit in front of the fire and contemplate
The flames as they work their autumn on wood.

There is a seasons for all things under heaven
As the Bible says, and I review my existence
I am not unhappy n or glad, but I am, and I live
And think and feel and love and contemplate.

I cannot change my fate more than the old oak by the creek
My leaves will come in the spring and green in the summer
They will turn, yellow and fall in October
I will shiver in the cold winter winds, snow full.

Then, one day, as sunset falls for a billionth time
My light will go out as my branches seek the earth
My skeleton will remain for awhile as life makes other nests
As I join those who, before, have kissed the earth.

My skeleton will be gathered and touched by fire
I will warm those I love one more time
Then as embers glow and cool and little eyelids flutter
I will glide from this earth onto the universe.

- RCR 1998 (Reed Clinton Richards, papa)