Every way, each day
I am present to see it.
His miracle of being
I the recipient his gift
Awestruck, humbled, blessed
This I understand completely
Though I know not how, or why
I.  This man I still learn to know
As myself, of my self,
Admit having witness his growing
In great measure do I envy him
See his approach at living, being
embodying the kindest soul,
Naturally thoughtful and caring
How he is, has become
A lesson that I do learn from
My little legacy, so far beyond
better than from which he comes
I worry for him as fathers must
But not of him, of life's unexpected
always haunting every person
just out of foretelling, behind any horizon
For this treasure of my life I know
No doubt, to be a person of light
Wits, genuine smiles, listening and learning
His my Son, He is my Hero
I am out done, and yet,
ever the more thankful.
Blessed by You Zieven Lee.
Thank You.  More than you'll ever know.

Who?  Will You?
Comments will guide
Yours? My own.
No more tonight
shall I write alone

Collaborate any direction
as few or as many as creativity condones
So I plead for random acts
Of kindness being a collaboration

Who might answer?  You?
I hope, and I wait... Comment below
Lets create and together tonight
Know for one night,
we were not alone...

Feel it and devour the texture,
wrap yourself tightly within
the sweet sticky taste of goodness
Would be folly for me to not want this
Believe, believe such conviction
as do these sighs I breathe
it is that, that can never prove itself pointless
Look and lay your harsh eyes down
upon the glowing coals of what remains
as this is, built up to contrast my indignant masks
Sell no less that the answer now
As I have it, I haven't as of yet known by touch
Treasure such as this, coarse, terrifying and perfect
So long the pendulum escaped the **** it caused,
age defines the difference from that reflected warmth
recollecting the dawn of my placement
they are waiting, feel it aching within
down and throughout to every cell I shed
home is calling it will not fade, so patient
Where foundations of ever lasting acceptance
disappointment is but a condition of unconditional
I see that light burns yet, even though regardless
my foolish, selfish ways have crashed as waves
against the cliffs of that place I step and fell away from
Pierces the night of my ignorance, carrying me
as the mothers arms to the babe, and love
is exactly the light that never faded,
I will be okay, I am home.  I am home.
I remember , the place that held me
A warmth, the like I want to know
They, the only unconditional
Grounding my reason, they are my own
It is late, so long now I have played
I feel it, it is time and I know they wait
a single lamp burns, showing my ways
I must find this, light piercing darkness
So that when they wake, I will be safe
I think it is past time, I find my way home

The days get longer,
It seems,
With less and less excitement
Life becomes boring.

And the late nights cease,
To wake up for the early sun,
For another long day.
It never really seems to end.

Here I am-
Trapped in a cycle
Of my own unhappiness.
Where I torture myself.

Unread my buried poems
in worldly words of mouth
Unread the drops of water
from spilled ink on the ground

The breath of mouth
You unread when covered
with the dying roses
unread the doubts
unread the doubts
unread the doubts
of the mouth

Unread the walls of caves
from tongues of creepy lions
Unread the burning love
when falling on the clouds
In dusty foam unread
Unread the words of mouth