Before you I didn’t know
Just how beautiful
The sound of the word: son
Son
Is tender like
dancing slowly
in the kitchen
With my lover
and my babe in arms
Son is
Full
like
The swell
of a symphony
That rises like gold
In your chest
Lifting you up
As you ride the wave
The wash of pride
The joy that shimmers
Like a heat wave
On the pavement
Expansive
Like the horizon
Where dark grey clouds descend
Like a curtain.
All encompassing
A Midwest thunderstorm
A summer press
A rain torrent
I didn’t know
A word could mean this much
It’s rising and setting of the sun.
My son
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