Keeping my promise.

A year ago, the first of January 2016, my dad passed away on his sleep; he was bed ridden for three years.
The 29th of October 2011 he, Miguel del Campo Hernández,  handed me this picture of himself resently taken with a poem written on the back.

He made me promise then to read it aloud at his funeral or burial, I didn't have a chance todo so because there wasn´t any.  His ashes are, today, at our family house in San Luis Potosí, S:L:P, México.  We will take them to rest at San Francisco's Church next Saturday (7) at 13:00 hs. where I expect to be allowed to read it.
I read the second lecture at the mass held in his honour with his asshes present, as I was reading I remenbered one advice he used to give me:  "¡No quites el dedo del renglón!".  He meant "Focus!".  That night at the podium I saw that by keeping a finger on the line I was reading, following word by word, I could manage to go on despite my confussing feelings until the end.  Just then I fully understood the sentence "Keep your finger on the line".

I'm keeping my promise dad.

 MARUS:- Con este poema,  te dedico la foto a mis 77 años:  Te quiero mucho.  Tu papá. Miguel

Se nos ha ido la tarde
en cantar una canción,
en perseguir a una nube
y en deshojar una flor.

Y se nos ha ido la noche
en decir una oración,
y en hablar con una estrella
y en morir con una flor.

Y se nos irá la aurora
en volver a esa canción,
en perseguir esa nube
y en deshojar esa flor.

Y se nos irá la vida

sin sentir otro rumor, 

que el del agua de las horas

que se lleva el corazón.