To a Pilot's Son
Though my job takes me to far-away places,
Far from home among many new faces,
Enjoying rich, glowing sunsets and brilliant sky blue,
The sad part is it takes me away from you.
But to a pilot a plane is a mixed blessing,
Like cold, sleepless nights and 4 o'clock dressing,
All the nights missed tucking you in bed,
Too many bedtime stories that won't get read.
Cobalt blue sunrises followed by fiery red sunsets,
The scale of privledge balanced with regrets.
My job pulls me here to Timbuktu, but
The heart of me is always with you.
Missed days and nights filled with great joy and laughter,
Too tight of schedules running here and thereafter,
To earn a living, son, this is what I do;
I miss every minute separated from you.
If a king's ransom I had, I'd be a stay-at-home dad,
Every night rubbing your head and tucking you into bed,
Long walks on the beach to take,
Seeing your smile when I wake.
So, son, keep in mind as you grow older,
A strong healthy body and oh so much bolder.
All those days and nights and days away too long,
I miss you every minute I'm gone.
If God should send me for that final flight west,
Don't be sad, don't protest.
Keep your head and body strong,
To win the challenge long.
And remember as you gander at the sky above you,
That forever in time I will always love you.
-Captain Rick Kerti