Son, that's a lie
There are some from the
promised land who will tell a man
Not to dream while awake,
to be a snake
those who hesitate.
lie to you.
They say you're supposed to be dangerous, and that you should ignore your broken wings, and continue to fly.
They say to close your eyes
to make room
for anger and revenge
and tough ass things.
Son, that's a lie.
Men cry. They must
weep tears of truth which
Drip of wholeness and honesty
And integrity and continuity.
Men do not deny their own eyes.
And while their sons watch, they embrace
The salt that is released.
Our tears feed the earth, mixing with the dirt. We need them. We must feed them.
Forgiveness looks good on you;
it makes your skin softer. It makes your mind clearer. It makes your red lights turn blue.
I adore this side of you.
Don't be a fool who
let's the rake hit you in the face
with deception and masked masculinity like a slime's revenge.
Green men who banish tears are not free. Women who condone those tears
live in fear of
Climb to the mountain top with eyes that shine and lungs that knot
And cry --
There is NOTHING more beautiful
than a heart sculpted
like a canyon by water and ice
Unafraid of the flight,
Surrounded by kindness and sensitive matter!
Eagles will crave your presence. Hummingbirds will crave your light.
And if you stand next to a man who ignores you in the night, and chooses to fight --
take the flight
To a place of solitude
and fresh brewed mistakes and lay
On leaves and grass and think.
Go where people welcome you.
Go where you'll feel awake.
And then, son, once you've had a taste...
Share this lesson with delicate haste.