Meditations of a Father

 Son, when I admonished you to curve a path for yourself

To create wonderful vistas of a world unexplored—

Beautiful, magnificent—

Was my voice harsh?

When I urged you to grow up to be a man of great learning

Learned in poetry, science, law, theology, philosophy, geology

Did I intimidate you, son?

Did you not grab the earnestness of my plea?

Son,  when I walk around and see you dull

Caged by the stifling thoughts of here and now

Do you think me happy

When I know that your mind can soar the skies

Wrestling with the ideas of man and the earth?

Am I too harsh to you, Son,

When in my unguarded moments of anger

I tell you that your dreams are too great

To be traded with the present sorrows and want?

When I lead you into the night

And point to you the majesty of the skies

Do you mistake me for a senile old man?

When I show you which stars shine brightest

Prodding you to take those stars to your sleep

Do I test your patience, son?

When I wake you up at dawn

So that we can watch the sunrise

Do you see me as a mean father?

Do you doubt  my sanity when I weep

Just by witnessing the birth of a new day?

Son, when I speak a lot about the flowers,

The stars, the moon, the oceans, the butterflies,

The rocky mountains, the sand dunes

Do you sometimes secretly wish

I would just stop and talk ‘normally’?

Son, am I harsh, when I let you in into the greatest secrets of the universe?

Do I bore you, Son?