A kind of feeling,
Neither too naive,
Nor too abstract,
But somewhere between the two,
Possessed my mind when
I was alone, looking at
My child in slumber.
Asleep he was, unbeknownst
To anything but the
Warmth of his nest.
Tenderness in his body,
Innocence in his face,
Silent depth in his breath,
Gave me the amazing grace,
That I humanly missed,
And I humanly longed for.
It was time when
I cared for you, son!
It was time when
Wishes poured out!
Remember when you weren't here,
And the world was as dreaded
As it could become in days,
An uncanny thought,
If I can give you
A green stretch to wobble on,
Or a riverbank to recline at,
Poked my bleak head.
Then I see you, sleeping
In your nest's comfort.
Welcome home, son!
Should I or should I not
Shield you from evils,
Murky world, dying ethos?
Should I or should I not
Teach you to see
Waning humanity, but
Never to act?
Should you become
Another judicious spectator
Like your father is?
Now I see you sleeping,
And again, I look
At your deep eyelashes.
It is time when
I cared for you, son!
It is time when
Wishes poured out.
When you become a man,
Be not possessed,
Be not the fittest,
But be with your people,
And be with your wishes.
