"WAS THERE SOMETHING LEFT TO SAY TO DAD?"

THE MOVING FEELING OF ONE WHO WRITES AND NEEDED TO PUBLISH THE EMOTIONS THAT SURFACED ON A SPECIAL DAY, "FATHER'S DAY," THROUGH THE POEM: "DREAMS MY LITTLE GIRL KEPT"

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NO MATTER HOW OLD WE ARE, IT IS ALWAYS POSSIBLE TO DISCOVER WHAT WE STILL HAVE TUCKED AWAY IN A WARM LITTLE CORNER, AS IN THE HOLLOW OF A GUITAR.

THIS LITTLE GIRL, MY LITTLE GIRL, WAS SMALL AND DID NOT HAVE THE CLARITY TO UNDERSTAND THAT LEARNING TO PLAY THE GUITAR WAS NOT ONLY HER FATHER'S DREAM, BUT HERS AS WELL.

FOR SIX DECADES, SHE KEPT HERSELF IN THE WARM HOLLOW OF THE WOOD, AND TODAY I, AN ADULT, RESCUE HER TO TELL HER THAT THERE IS STILL TIME... TO EMBRACE HER AND ASSURE HER THAT IT IS IMPORTANT TO TELL DAD WHAT WE COULDN'T BEFORE, BECAUSE HE LISTENS FROM HEAVEN... OR RATHER FROM THE DEPTHS OF THE HEART.

Transcript

POEM

Dreams my little girl kept

In the hollow of the guitar
a little girl lived
tangled among the strings
that her father, full of hope, had sown.

I am that little one,
who fled out of fear,
leaving behind the warm wood
and the hope in silence.
Today I look into that dark hollow…
where my little girl kept herself.
It was not an abyss,
but a refuge
that was too big for her.

I saw her curled up, looking at me
and asking permission to come out.
–Do you forgive my carelessness?–
she asked the echo trembling in there.
Her gesture
was the first true note.

I understand then
that my father's dream
was also mine.
She takes my hand…
I embrace her…
she stays with me.

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