You run up to me with sad joy.
You have missed me. We have
missed each-other. Sometimes apart, sometimes
together we have missed each-other.
Why is it so hard for me to ease your anger?
How come I cannot find what it is in me that you need?
I was never guided into manhood,
just encouraged to stay in worship.
How can I see this in you and do nothing?
I feel helpless in the face
of my own past revealing itself.
At the times we don’t miss each other;
as we wrestle or share something that
links us. I own that sure knowledge of love
and reverence for this time and each-other.
At times it seems that this deep reverence only
emphasizes the space between us. How I wish
my spark was bright enough to transfer to you
the sure knowledge of your beauty.
How I wish that you could know, as I know that
you are a gift to us all, and to humbly let us
bask in the warmth of your skill and grace amplified
by our imaginations into the future.
My love is challenged by my own knowledge
of my inadequacy to provide for your soul,
and the bitter knowledge that one day you will
go on without me, perhaps angry and resentful
of my failings.
I will go forward with you, hoping to become
large enough to bridge the gaps between us
while allowing you to see my flaws, my humanity.
I will go forward hoping that
perhaps you will grow enough to love
me in a way that will forgive my ineptitude.
The joy of your creation came to me late and I fear
the full measure of it will not be enough. That you
will not know, as I did not, that you are my beautiful boy.
This poem was written by Kyle Mercer a Senior Teacher and Coach at The Garden Company, an organization dedicated to the awakening of human potential, and is a recently joined member of the Sandpoint Men’s Group. See his website at: www.thegardencompany.com. When he read his poem at a recent meeting, he had every man in the room in tears.
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