agape
letter to my son to be
And to my son
Yet to be born
I can hear you
With a gentle voice
kind enough to silence broken hearts
And soft enough to ease my worry
You will ask me
“And what of the world?”
To which I will reply
Remembering
The shape of the trees that
Danced along the borders of your home
Your grandfather, whose smile was just as rare and comforting as the stark winter days,
who will love you a little more gently.
Your uncles who will cherish you
Semper et aeternum
And clothe you in belly laughs and pictures
of daddy’s half-maintained Afro
The wars that tore down nations
tears that were barely supplied
And failures that were seasoned with mediocrity.
Followed by long nights in my lover’s arms
Thinking of the names we will call you
Places we will show you
And all the odd joys unique to our little life
“Oh, it’s everything,” I respond
“You will make this beautiful”
