Fathers and Sons

I – Sons

When the deepening occurs

you are seated, once again

for the first time – familiar-.

Yet no sense, no thought nor emotion

would have ever held the potency

for this.

Fears evaporated like water (and, if not mindful, others will replace them)

But for now the vapor is cause for amusement

and learning

and after oceans have dissapeared

you can walk along the sea bed

and wander – wonder

at what was always there, underneath.

Ahhh but what, what could be this heat

that makes an ocean inconsequential.

What must this scorching heat be –

oceans turned to dust.

And the shells that are left glitter

luminescent,

irridescent

intent unchanged.

Don’t be fooled…although the sun sets

and the waves lap easily

the oceans beauty betrays the fearful,

the real beauty is the solid rock below.

Ohhh what tremendous fire ball cooks the betrayer

turning to dust all that is not rock and solid

while glittering, simple things lie

as they always have

in complete

perfection

and peace

at the bottom.

What ferocious flame.

What size of sun.

What Herculean Heat

is responsible

for bringing what has been hidden

into view.

II – Fathers

I don’t understand how one man could kill another

once he has looked into the eyes of his son,

into the eyes of the woman who is and has given him.

Perhaps if the child is taken by force,

perhaps.

But how.

-are these childless men that celebrate death by force-

We only live in our world

and in mine I am changed, deepened.

How does a father begin to murder.

This questions is new and the answer

doesn’t come to me

and I don’t know.

In my world there is no murder – only gifts

gifts that have struck me dumber

awakened me from my slumber,

the number of times I’ve closed my eyes

and the lies and furrowed sighs

and alibies

fall away as I rise

to meet the giant that is my son.

And as I stand and stretch and reach

to hold myself up to him

I feel my body, my foundation, my glittering

priceless things shaking with humility

at what lies directly in front of me.

My Son

-I think-

and I weep like the child I once was.

My Son

-I think-

and I put down the guns and the allow

the fortress to be vaporized with all the rest.

My Son

-I think-

I allow myself to be defeated

and I look into my smiling and bursting heart

and see My Son.

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