In Awe (A poem for Aiden)
My oldest son Aiden
rises early with the birds
not to catch the worm, or anything else,
but because his heart is a compass
not to catch the worm, or anything else,
but because his heart is a compass
that steers him through the still dark morning kitchen,
the subtle creeks in the welcoming floor, his guides, his companions.
While his brother and sister sleep,
he eats,
and reads, and waits.
He rises because his veins
He rises because his veins
and muscles long to be used,
he rises for himself
because he has it in him to achieve
the things he dreams.
He sets his alarm for five when there is work to be done and knows that in the quiet of
Dawn he thrives.
I trust him,
though perhaps he procrastinates,
I do not worry because to watch him
balance scholar and athlete,
is to watch
a becoming man,
A man becoming.
His hands are thick with determination,
his mind is open
to differences and delights,
he's curious about the Greeks
and the workings of Ancient Rome,
to differences and delights,
he's curious about the Greeks
and the workings of Ancient Rome,
and why some people love and some people hate.
He is hungry for knowledge, and the healthy foods,
he asks that we use
to
to
fill
him
up
like a watering can,
bright blue and green,
like a watering can,
bright blue and green,
clean and smooth,
the earth nourishes him,
and he does the same.
He treats his body as a muse,
his mind is a cloud evolving
and floating, each day
full of love, and shapes
that change,
resembling the animals he adores,
resembling the animals he adores,
the books he explores, the cars he longs to drive
alongside.
alongside.
I am in awe. Completely and fully
Of him
whose big, wonderful body grew
whose big, wonderful body grew
inside of me
until it was time
to cut the cord, and feast from mine.
until it was time
to cut the cord, and feast from mine.
I do for him what he needs,
for in my eyes,
he is me.
he is me.
Courageous, but reluctant.
Adventurous, but cautious.
Silly, but serious.
Explosive, but calm.
A friend with time.
A lover of words and discourse.
A believer in eyes,
A believer in eyes,
like sapphires and coral,
they are the window to the soul
Sharp and sweet,
Sharp and sweet,
he greets
new challenges with hesitation and frustration, but admiration.
His strong shoulders hold burdens with grace and ease,
and like a mountain lion, he cruises this land searching for truth.
His strong shoulders hold burdens with grace and ease,
and like a mountain lion, he cruises this land searching for truth.
No matter how old, or fractured, or centered, or free, I hope he sees
What I see.
I hope he sees.
No comments:
Post a Comment