I have kissed my son
I have kissed my son
a thousand times
and held him close
And will kiss his face
one million more
before he goes
before the days that words can’t bridge
before the distance grows
I will kiss his face
a million times
before he ups and goes.
Will you love me, Billy, oh my son
Will you love me, Billy boy?
When we are lost and cannot find our bond
Will I still bring you joy?
I have watched my son
sleep in his bed
I see his life before us.
a thousand times
and held him close
And will kiss his face
one million more
before he goes
before the days that words can’t bridge
before the distance grows
I will kiss his face
a million times
before he ups and goes.
Will you love me, Billy, oh my son
Will you love me, Billy boy?
When we are lost and cannot find our bond
Will I still bring you joy?
I have watched my son
sleep in his bed
I see his life before us.
1 Comments:
If I may?
I feel rather odd commenting on
poetry. I suppose because it's such
a personal act that comments are
almost an intrusion.
Pardon. Perhaps it's my Personal bias.
Poetry, good poetry, takes a moment
and illuminates it somehow.
I have been here. Look at what it is like.
I will never be a parent. You have
shared with me a moment I would
never have the benefit of knowing.
I've been here, before, reading
your poetry.
Just a nod.
And a smile.
And a thanks.
- -
Okay,
Father Luke
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