Long absences,
My muse fills me once again,
I am afraid to stoke the fires of it too quickly,
and let these embers get chocked out and die.

But the words are flowing,
and my mind feels so clear,
The troubles of the world are held at bay for a moment,
And for now, it's just me and these keys I type on.

So while it's still here I will type,
My stature relaxed and my heart light,
And hope it burns some more

My darling son,
I write this one for you.

You're so far away,
Still so many months from meeting you,
And meeting the man you will be.

I can't wait to see your first steps,
To hear your first words,
To take you trick-or-treating the first time,
To absolutely embarrass you with my antics.

Will you like music like me,
Will you be as sharp-witted as your mother,
Will you be as much of a hellion as your old man,
Will you be as ambitious as the woman I've come to love so much.

What will be your favorite sport,
if you like them at all,
What will your greatest fear be,
And how can I help you conquer it?

You know you already have scared the living **** out of me approximately times,
And that made your mother laugh each time,
I swore to her that I wouldn't be a worrier,
But we both knew I was lying.
How many more heart-stopping moments do you have planned for me, I wonder?

How many times do you think I'm too strict,
That I make your life unfair,
That I just need to chill a little bit?
How many times do you think I'm a stick in the mud,
Not knowing I was a steely-eyed warrior,
Who traded in his sword for a swaddle blanket,
And his bullets for a Babybjorn,
Doing so with a smile on my face.

I look to the far future,
Where I see you in a suit,
Some of your best friends by your side,
Nervously awaiting the arrival of your bride,
In this glimpse you glance over at me,
And you'll see I am so happy.

Looking further,
You'll be in scrubs,
Perhaps with an unshed tear in your eye,
And tell your mother and eye that your own son is born,
That my son,
Will have my heart so filled with pride.

But that is so far away,
My Boy,
And for now I just await to hold you,
And shed a tear of my own.

My son,
We can't wait to show you how wonderful this world can be.

Looking around,
Pit-Pat Paddy-Wack,
Heart bat-batting to an electronic beat,
Morale swinging like a grandfather clock,
Tick-Tick-Tocking,
One moment serene like a Sholin Monk,
The next rageful like Kublai Khan,
Sweat running like rivulets like some kind of Gatorade commercial,
Vision a-tunneling,
Fists a-tightening.

This inner monster jumpin,
Like a monkey on the bed,
While the outer demon is swayin,
Like a reed in the breeze,
Duality being duplicitous,
And clarity illusive like a cloud in the fog.

It came from the blue,
Not quite true,
For we had been scared a time or two to be true,
But now,
WOW,
Such a tiny "+" symbol can change so much.

You now rest in your Mama,
Just the size of a jellybean,
but our little Bam beano.
how you'll grow.

Will you love Harry Potter,
Star Wars,
both, neither?

In my dreams I see you playing the guitar,
but I'd be just as happy if you decided to play the bassoon,
to follow your dreams,
and love the journey for the beautiful chaos that it is.
To be foolish and terrifying,
because like Willi Carlisle says,
"It takes a certain kind of fool,
to make a difference in the world."

I imagine you being kind,
and these acts bring tears to my dilated eyes.

Speaking of eyes,
Will you have your mother's or my eyes?
Here entrancing green or my steely blue?
Will the world harden your eyes to what you see,
or will what you see soften you to what you can do?

Sweet child,
are you my daughter or my son?
Will you have me wrapped around your finger?
Or will you have me thinking of my own old man,
trying to not do what he failed in and copy what he had succeeded with.

I think of the future,
the danger,
the cost,
the sheer time.

God the time.

When you learn to drive, I'll be 44,
graduate with the class of 40 or 41.

My God the time.

We can't wait to meet you, my child,
Our sweet little bean,
Whether you're a Wyatt or an Ellise,
Just know that Mommy and Daddy love you,
and can't wait to show you the world,
with all in it to be seen.

It zips forward and past,
Through and around,
Tick Tock goes the hazy clock,
Apples decay to fuzzy and shriveled husks,
Beside blooming lilies.

Just five and a half years,
Transformation in the oddest of ways,
arriving bitter and broken,
Moving along this next path as excited and improved.

Momentum gaining,
like breaking into a run downhill,
where any moment's hesitation brings devastation and disorientation,
Heartbeat hammering from a stone solid 50 to 105,
is it anticipation that drives this acceleration.

Ecstasy of movement and insanity,
like feather brushes of fae-like intent,
getting lost in fogs of spirituality and philosophy.
Brutal momentum of guitar strings being finger picked,
Psychically projecting images of brutal revenge and bitter grief

Madness? No
******....

What are you, a cop?

Missing a step now,
the stumble turns into a tumble,
as the green of the grass flash past, as does the blue-white of the sky. Blue then green, blue then green,
blue green,blue green, blue green,
bluegreen, bluegreen, bluegreen
bluegreenbluegreenbluegreenbluegreen.

The hill turned out to be a cliff,
stomach roiling as I fall,
into some fantastic and manic vision below.

Seeing as it's 6:45 in the morning,
I pray that this will suffice,
That a poem on your phone,
Beats a petal on a pillow,
In the Tuesday morning light.

It's your kind and empathic nature my May Queen,
That I find so sweet,
That you could be such a rousing supporter,
Of my dumb jokes and my argumentative streak.

I promise next time will be a pedal,
The fortune teller said that'd be fine,
So sleep well my lion, dragon, and May Queen,
Revel in the sandman's night time delights.

Oh my beautiful May Queen,
Sleeping beside me on this bed,
Your hair tousled,
Breathing soft and rythmic,
Dog staring out the window to your left.

I wonder to myself,
On this Saturday morning,
Of how lucky I could be,
To have met such a pearlescent example of goodness in the world,
And graced enough to have you see me.

Your kindness is without second,
Your gentleness bar none,
With a mischievous streak a mile long,
And a loving tenderness that sings out to my heart a great and gentle song.

A balm to my anger,
Your words and touch have been,
A gentle pouring of warm water upon my heart set abalze,
To temper my hatred and my rage.

I know that I wish to wed you my May Queen,
Who sleeps gently by my side,
Perhaps you'll dance and merrily keen,
At that ring if gold and jewel inside.

But for now my love,
I must sleep again,
For sleep piles heavy at my eyes,
So that I may wake up,
So happy and carefree,
That you are by my side