The shake of your hand
The slight grasp of my arm
The direct gaze of your eyes
The sincerity of your voice
When you spoke

I thought of him
With his last voice
Standing there in his room
Looking at me so clear
Speaking those same words

I felt so humble and alive
So raw and so new
The love so wanted
Found with those
Last words

And your handshake
Spoke across forgiveness
From son to father
The tight grasp
Of the truth!

© 2004 Jim Cain