Your life depicted on a grayish film,
With an ivory wand that sees through cells:
Two legs, long for such an age as yours,
Yet thin as winter sticks.

I could not predict that swelling of the heart,
And soul, felt long before other signs,
And even then, your soul hung in the balance,
For two or three heartbeats of mine.

Then it was decided by my lover and me
To keep you with us,
Through pain until, perhaps, eternity.

Now you are grown, surprisingly apt,
Pupil of ourselves and you,
Thinking on your own, you are prone,
To tell me things I never knew.

Your soul fills our world with joy,
Even in the darkest frame of mind,
Your longing songs about the boy
Who loves the girl he left behind
Fill the air with hypnotic ambiance,
Soothing the listener,
Making happiness a trance.

I can guess your names,
Cleverly chosen to reflect
This year's popularity.
Names beginning with XYZ.
Some silly ones, by all accounts,
But I'm silly to think my opinion counts.
Though that's of no matter for what you face;
For we've left this place in a sorry state.
Our lame excuse is,
We didn't fare well from our benefactors.
The ethnic mix was already a mess;
And rightly demands fair redress;
Broken promises to those who dreamed,
The indigenous and the migrant streams;
Those in chains, though innocent,
The fairer ***, and I'm not sexist,
Has been under the heel of the strong,
Yes, far more fair,
And they've been wronged.
Unique communities of men and women,
Have cracked the doors, blown their horns
And tumbled the walls of garrisons
Through film, print, paint and clay.
Their inclusiveness gives me hope,
That some near not far future day,
We'll all be gathered in one parade.

I've scratched the surface of our inheritence,
And in fifty years of managing the place,
We've left problems til too late;
Some we've worked on,
Some escaped.
We've pointed fingers far too long,
The work we started's never done,
You too will have to pass it on
To the unborn of the human race.

I may not be sure, that my fragments are parts of you
I know your mother is a solid woman,
She is fine like seasoned wine,
Taste sweet like honey of acacia flowers,
Her ambience of true dignity,
Great keeper of secrets, I know she makes others seems a mature.

Walk tall son for truly you are born,
Other feel.inadequate of their parents ,
But to you though born in a strange circumstance are more hair of the land as any other.
Make me proud son, let your mother sigh with joy,
Let her ***** be youthfull at the sight of the joy of her youth, the fruit of her womb.

No thought can grasp this
ocean we enter
in Holy embrace
together.

This Placeless place
echoes a memory,
unseen here, only Love
carried in waves of light.

Fingers soft as petals of Lilly
lifting into infinity, touching gently,
with the delicacy of a Lover
bound by Heart to the Beloved.

In Reverence you reach
to meet the unseen song of no-thing
as the One Heart opens, revealing
fragrance mimicing the fields of Heavens on High.

Sharing the feast of Heart
boundless, awake
waves of intoxicated bliss opening This
as He decends upon, as your lips.

Dancing under moonlight
no eyes can see
delighting in poem
no words can speak.

The ocean sings of Silence
to the ship longing for shore
washing away all sense
of "two", all need for "more".

We, ever becoming
take off on a star heading for Truth
and leave the sleeping and waking
to the dreamers.

The Lover's destiny
is the union Absolute,
following the inevitable, miraculous
disappearance of the universe.

Ocean and waves voyaged in Mind
become worldless Void
You and I,
Boundless, Unborn Love

My dear unborn child,
                 I never want you
                 To feel excluded

                 I never want you
                 To believe you're ugly
                 Just because you look different
                 From the other kids

My dear unborn child,
                 I never want you
                 To feel emotional pain

                 I never want you
                 To be ruthlessly bullied
                 Or be called a freak
                 Or a ******

My dear unborn child,
                 I never want you
                 To experience heartbreak

                 I never want you
                 To fall in love with someone
                 Who can't love you back
                 Or treasure your true beauty

My dear unborn child,
                 I never want you
                 To develop a mental illness

                 I never want you
                 To sink into depression
                 To the point where
                 You suffocate
                 And wish I had left you
                 Unborn.

My dear unborn child,
                 I never want you to hurt
                 I never want you to suffer
                 I never want you to end up
                 Like me.

My dear unborn child,
                 Because I love you
                 I have decided to spare you
                 I have decided to grant you
                 Your unspoken wish
                 I have decided to leave you
                 Unborn, forever.

Our parents will become orphans one day -
this is not something you normally choose.

In that moment,
some of them will suddenly find
their inner child,
hopelessly
wondering around life;
others
will permanently lose it
and bury it
alongside their parents.

All of these grown-up children
are wishing more and more,
with every day that passes,
to become grandparents
for OUR unborn children.

We will become orphans one day -
that's something you don't normally choose.

In that moment,
we'll become the first generation
of children that
don't have a past,
nor a future -
we will only live our present,
till the day we die..

Or, at least, that's what our mothers and fathers believe at this point about us.

[https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BWFeUNyfpmM]