This poem or short story was written for an old friend who has since passed from this life. A friend who suffered at the hand of a step-father as I did at hands of my real father.
Out of the horrors of affliction arose a bond of friendship that will span the eternities.
Written By
Bill Martin
Hello old friend. Again you walk the corridors of my dreams, I'm not sure what this means, or why, but twice in such a short time you and I were together again as in we were in days of old.
Are you trying to say that soon we well again be to gather to run through the fields of corn and green bean?
Are you so lonely there you must visit me in my dreams? Do you miss me as I've missed you? Yet, as I reflect on the days we ran together, I'm drawn backwards into a time when life was filled with the happiness of forgetting of the desecration of our youth.
Last night as I lay asleep, you moved into my world of dreams and became a vision of happiness again. We walked and talked alone the creek bank and played on the rocks that protruded from the flowing waters. There we pledged to each other upon our honor and by blood that we would be blood brothers forever and ever, even to the very end.
Forgetting all the hardships we were forced to endure from those who claimed the right to be our protector, our fathers. Forgetting for the moment the physical pain and mental anguish that we suffered at their hands.
The joy and sorrow of our youth plunged itself to the very depths of my soul to recapture these moments that are now only fleeting memory of yesterday.
How we laugh as we pushed and pull at each other in mock fights, wrestling to see who could push the other in the creek. Then race up the banks of the creek to be first under the great cotton wood tree during the heat of the day. AS we sat in the shade, we talked of our plans to conquer the world when we reach sixteen, for then, all the world would be forced to recognize to our ability to drive a real car.
Then I awoke only to find myself back in a world of reality. I could not stop the sadness that swelled up within me. Yet, there are other joys that have entered my life.
My four children are of great joy to me and my wife whom I love with all of my heart. My sons are filled with chivalry, and are compassionate, brave, and very intelligent men. Life with all its ups and down has given me great fulfillment.
My heart was full of joy as we talked for it's been so long since we last talked. But I must ask you, are you trying to tell me that my time is ever so near and we will be together again old friend.
If this the case, then I must ask, wait a little longer old friend for I have two daughter's I must raise.
Then old friend I will go with you to where you are, for I have no fear of death itself. My fear is to leave my two daughters in a world which is so cruel and vicious. A world filled with men whom delight in the suffering of their children. I am their protector, but not in the way we were forced to suffer.
Love, understanding, kindness and gentleness is the only way. For in this, there is great honor of being called father.
I pray daily old friend that I am not the cause of any pain for my daughters, so they will not run away from me, but run to me, as their Father and Protector.
So wait a moment longer old friend, and while you wait, find the creek bank, the cotton wood trees, the corn and green bean fields. For when we next meet, there we will play.
Bill & Zonia Martin