Broken Ice and Tragic Circumstance ©

There is a man inside me.
His bones thick and strong.
Very much like my own.
His skin pale and soft.
Very much like my own.
His locks gold and wild.
Very much like my own.
This man speaks to me in dreams.
Now he lives with me in thought and fantasy.
Unable to grasp the tangible,
I long for the touch from the man who planted the seed for my very being.
An embrace, a reassuring glance,
Something to remind me of how things could have been.
On the coldest of winter nights,
I still see his breath drift over the land,
Guiding his kin like a flock of wild sheep.
Reflecting generations of the brave Scots before him.
I am blessed to live with the soul of a lost father.
For I will never forget the feeling of his warmth,
As it runs through every last drop of blood in my veins.