Poem for My Son

Ivy Halls of Accomplishment

From the days before your conception, I heard you calling to me,
asking for birth, life, and time to accomplish.
That you had god as your intermediary, was not astonishing,
because as soon as I heard your call, I heard god sanction your being.

You, took command of my body, became flesh. Born into the world,
you were impatient to move. Walking the floor with you raging
in my arms, I announced, “he is not like this,”
he is quieter, still, in his core.” You mastered words and people,
gathered the elements of becoming, grew into a child
who observed, the vagaries of the world.

One who with prescience knew others,
your mind encompassed unseen parts of their being
astounded us all. We were not surprised when you made
pronouncements with full confidence, unlike other children,
“I will play tennis,” (and you did not know how.)
“I will go away to school.” (and you couldn’t have found your way to North Charleston.)

You knew yourself, in a way that few elders can, that the young never do.
You rarely showed your fears, making us all think you might be infallible,
but then, in the crux, yielding to human fears
fretting over your choices, your desires of going on.

But you have gone on, you have prospered and you are the man
whom I saw in the first instance of your call to me from the deeps
of dwelling with god. You are yourself, more profound,
more heartfelt and more real than my hopes
could ever make you.

2 thoughts on “Poem for My Son

    • I think I wrote it three or four years ago. I’d forgotten about it, and “discovered” it when going through some of my files. Sometimes a poem stews in my head and then I write it thinking I’ll come back later and work on it some more, and then I forget it. If I remember correctly, I think I worked on this one a bit and then never thought of it again.

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