green

"you are.
 an inspiration,"
he choked.
the air conditioner hummed 
quietly behind us. 
"your heart of immense gratitude, 
the ability you have to see
everything-"
he is weeping now-
"as a gift, 
does not go
unnoticed."
the green of my leaves 
begin to slowly uncurl,
his words and tears streaming steadily now
dropping on my green,
we  sat there,
everything wet and glistening.
i had never been spoken to 
so sincerely by my father. 
not like this.
his heart like a hat in 
his hands. 
the words tumbled from his 
mouth, 
his shoulders, 
always strong, always upright,
now shook and the avalanche 
began to give way.
it was as if he felt the urgency to speak all the things 
he had never taken the time to,
he would not miss that opportunity-
not this time.
for that moment, 
i felt truly seen, 
nothing else in his line of vision, 
but little me, 
my tender vine growing 
by the second.
instead of shielding myself,
bracing against what would come,
i opened my little plush petals, 
pulled back my 
protective coverings,
shook off the dirt down to my roots, 
and let the rain come. 
i allowed the kind, 
gracious words, 
along with the tears of honey 
to wash over me. 
i drank drank, drank, 
as fast as i could 
as he encouraged, affirmed, and 
turned his 
powerful eye to me. 
i adore my father. i do. 
but i would never demand or expect 
this gift 
he has given me, 
the words of living water, 
i did not realize how thirsty 
i was. 
to see my father, 
weak with weeping, 
flowing with words that had no gate keeper, 
no reservations, 
i have seen nothing like this.
what a precious gift i will never forget 
and will cherish forever. 
he loves me. 
he looks up 
to me.
he adores me. 
is quietly learning 
from me.
i am speechless with humility, 
and my leaves, 
my stem, 
my roots, 
have all been strengthened and renewed. 
i have never been 
more green. 

i love you dad.