Inside

6/17/22

Category: Poetry, Psychology

Shadows provide

shade and shelter,

mine to my son

 

just till he’s ready

to unzip middle-school pajamas

and soar into the sun.

 

Night holds future bodies still,

revealing what’s inside,

 

peeling the last curl

of humility

that laughs

from a ripe insecurity,

called pride,

 

spilling secrets

tightly coiled

in the nucleus

of every atom,

 

a holocaust of creation

that started in the Garden

with a lizard, Eve, and Adam,

 

dismembering the fabric

of space-time

that bids the deafening sound

of silence goodbye.

 

The quiet hum of dawn

nurtures survivors

of the dark night

into giants

with every sip of gold,

 

souls taller

than anyone can stand.

 

This is what we sacrifice

when we fail

to love the boy

inside the man.

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Myriam Delagneau
Myriam Delagneau
1 year ago

I love your poems about your Son, our Grandson. ‍♀️

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