When the Sky Touches the Wing

Father…
I do not hold you – I let you go.
But every time the sky touches your wing – I look up.
Perhaps I do not always see, but I always feel.
Do not be afraid to be the first. I know – this is your heart.
But allow me to be your Earth,
To which you can always return, no matter what.
I do not ask for caution – I ask for Memory.
Of who is waiting. Of the fact that you are already – enough.
And even if you fly for everyone –
Know: I will be proud that to me, you are simply Father.
The one who leaves a trace not in the sky –
But within me.