A Metaphor

The sky is dark and clear and I hear the sound of a plane in the distance. As I look up I see the lights approaching, the sound of the engines getting louder. I begin to think where is it coming from where is it going. The image becomes clear as it flies overhead. The lights are bright the engines are strong. As it begins to move away the sound and image starts to fade but the lights are still visable. Finally there is no more sound but I can still see the lights, getting smaller and smaller.

This is a story of my birth. Seeing my dad for the first time. The direction and lessons he taught me in life. He will always be in my heart and mind but the sound of his voice finally faded from my memory.

Comments

a brilliant metaphor, OWO.... you are a genius..
sometimes our best works come from our happiest, or saddest times in our lives.

(this kinda choked me up a bit...)
 
Gosh, I am one of the few that remember images of birth, and going home for the first time. Though no father, as the butt head left a month later.

Though I can say it works for me mom. :eek:)
 

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OhWiseOne
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