Infant hands
gripping thumbs.
Tired arms encircling adult neck.
Your first smile,
first laugh—
first tooth, step, and word, our
first shared glance.
Moments, landmarks of your life, the
joy of my own.

Infant eyes so full
of wonder,
even the meagre astounds.
Constellations,
planets and moons, asteroids
creeping through space,
world destroyers and raisers of new.
The universe, its
infinitely vast magnificence, at
molecular level iris comprised.
The pupil—centre ajar
serving soul's route,
a window into 'nother realm, the
place of spirit's hailing.
True self temporarily encased,
the pathway to which
in resides of corporeal existence
the pith of life.
Your eyes—as much wonder possessed
as perceive.

A wish;
you might stay young forever, each
day spent together, that
your innocence,
your heart, may
never know break's suffering.
That cheek, tear might never dampness vandalize.
Your life—unspoiled joy,
mere childish disappointment to claim,
might always remain.

A shelter from hate,
from hunger and strife.
The broadcasts of the world
that their weighty burden might never
find home upon tiny shoulder.
In my palm, Atlas' strength I possess,
to keep at bay
war—its further result.
Disaster.
Death,
thunder wind lightning,
the monster under your bed.
The fear of all things fear inciting,
a paladin whom you I serve.

But in that wish
I might deprive,
an incalculable love—life's
blessed comprise.
The force by which
a patriarch's drive—
the reason for being.
By selfish pinning of youth,
fulfilment you may never know

As much to protect you,
I do myself.
A fear of my own finale.
Residing forever in this happy dream.
Terror realized,
contrary to that my inevitable absence—that
I might never leave you, but
that you might never leave me.
My son, I love you, and
in time you will see.