Waking
Dragging
Wanting
Hoping.

So much more to life.

Seeing the trouble
Not knowing what to do…

Waiting
Dragging
Hoping
Wanting.

A protector,
a brother once but now it’s me.
He wanted not
to have to care for the boy.
Because of his own hidden hurt.
His own disconnect
from his little boy.

The hurting part wants Dad.
Is heartbroken.
Afraid for himself,
of himself,
and all alone.
Just wants
to be held.
Wants to feel safe.
Loved through the pain.
Seen.
Acknowledged.
Recognized.

My youngest is an Aries.
Fiery by nature.
Has been from the start.
When the nurse brought her in
She chuckled,
“She’s feisty”.

Today, jumping from thing to thing.
with dizzying speed.
ADHD?
Hell no!
A champion of initiation.
She moves mountains
with whit.
Cuts through inertia
So quick
It closes the opening
With a searing stroke.  

Yet not so hot at
finishing.
But who would?
With as much as she starts.

The kid’s growing
And as she does,
I want for her to commit.
Of course!
To things big and small.
For her future.
For her now.

When she forgets
to feed the dog,
I’ll cover it.
I’ll even flush the toilet for the umpteenth time.

My dream for her
is that she does what she loves,
Follows her heart
in all of her affairs.
Whether she’s a finisher

Or not.

But, when it comes to dishes?
The good **** dishes!
She must always,
Always,
Without fail,
finish
doing
the dishes.

“Daughter”
My youngest is an Aries.
Fiery by nature.
When the nurse brought her in
the words were
“She’s feisty”.
She jumps from one thing to
the next.
With haste, and
dizzying speed.
Some may say it’s adhd.
Hell no!
She’s a champion.
She initiates.
She can move a crowd
to laughter with whit.
She’s not so hot at finishing though.
But who would
with as much as they start.
As the kid grows  
I want for her
to commit.
To all things big and small.
For her future.
For her now.
When she forgets
to feed the dog,
I’ll cover it.
I’ll even flush the toilet for the umpteenth time.
My dream for her
is that she does what she loves.
Follows her heart
in all of her affairs.
Whether she’s a finisher
Or not.
But, when it come to dishes?
She must always
Without fail
finish doing the dishes!

I broke.

I once wanted one.
A dad.
A true father.
To his heart,
to his wife,
and his family.
What I got was another.

Swallowed by suffering,
his silence
suffocating a dream.
His?
Mine?

Lost and adrift
and slowly
buried
by his past.

Now father.
Dad.
I alone have to stand.
For my youth
long since passed.
Stand for my kids, my wife,
and yearning
for the heart, the Soul
of my Self.

For the boy who’s walked alone,
who still lives with me.
So that the pain can rise,
Can breach the surface
and let loose
the storm
for a sweet burial song.
  
All this
so he can once again
Remember
what love is.

Wailing
Swirling
Churning.
From the depths
But not yet seen.

Hands heavy.
Attention.
Here and
Gone.

Pulling me down
Jesus,
Buddha,
Connection to Source.
Pulling me down
And down.

The ground,
But deeper
The bottom of the sea
But deeper
I find
My grief.

It’s source unknown,
Just there.
Always has been.
Relics of a past before mine?

No matter.
The bottom
Salvation
From suffering.
The bottom,
The pain
the pain
the pain.
The bliss of
feeling human.

I shed a tear for you
From time to time.
Sometimes a little.
Often a river
When I’m missing you.

So hard to find you
In the hustle of the grind.
Family first, y’know,
Day to day.

Then I remember,
I can’t ignore,
That you were once me
I once you,
That little boy,
The adolescent,
The teen.

These days I shed a tear for you,
And then realize that you are me.

When you feel the deeper calling,
Something yearning to be expressed.
A definite thing
Felt,
Yet unseen.
Elusive,
Stirring sleep, bringing unrest.

You’ve become shrouded
in years, my friend,
decades even,
of wonder and mastery.
Your noble craft, the role you play,
Has reached its brilliant totality.

Yet beneath the fading light
A gift for others’ lives.
A new reason for being and
Perhaps, It speaks,
my friend,
From nothing
beginning to Rise.

It leaves the body of knowledge-
Your blood, sweat, and tears.
Obsolete,
like gas station receipts
That wallpaper the rooms
Of victory over the years.

What you’ve achieved in life,
Grand and monumental
No Doubt!
Has become, as it should-
Just a shell.
Protecting Divinity within, what was,
and the fragile human without.

So sit, my brother,
With the pain and grief
Of longing.
And hear its funeral song.
For beneath the Melody,
Sweet sorrow brings with it
The birth of how you belong.