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Its a boy (HOL2014)

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posted on Dec, 23 2014 @ 12:45 AM
I have seen the red in his eyes. I have sunken my sorrow into his lowly gaze.

Pride has been ripped from his heart. Faith has been shattered in his soul.

I am his witness. He will not die alone. I will not live without seeing him.

I hear his meek voice usher in another moment of agony. His breath is slow and tired. I know not what he says. I hear nothing that my proud ears can understand.

The spark is now a slight fizzle. His fire is but dim cinders at my feet. His warmth is but an echo of loving. His charm is an old whore of his former brilliance.

The dawn is behind us and the setting world is just another place. Night is upon the horizon. Darkness is on our minds. Tombs are reveling themselves to us in the strange twilight. Unmarked, unimportant tombs of men. The world is no longer a womb but a graveyard of no one.

I take his hand and hold it tightly. Like it was my mothers on her death bed. Like it was my daughters on her wedding day. I hold onto him as if he would slip away into oblivion if I let go. I think that I will forget something wonderful if I release him. Like a love letter lost to the wind and never delivered.

His flesh is cold. His hands are hard and tattered with wounds and calluses like an old flag over an exhausted battle field. His strength is nothing I can feel. His war is a mystery to me.

I tighten my grip. I feel him slipping. He is lost to me now if I let go.

We are as one. His defeat in tired old age, my victory in defiant vibrant youth.

I know to love him. My heart weighs heavy with his woes. I wish to take him into me and make him new in my spirit. I am not God. I am not powerful. I am nothing. I am like him. A witness to death. He to his, me to my own.

Then I feel a slight tug on my hand. His fingers twitch and steadily grip stronger. His flesh grows warm. Soft.

I see him rise over his broken back. His proud and powerful neck holding like a pillar the vision of a strong mans face. I see his lush lips and rosy cheeks fill with color. I see the grey lose ground to the advancing shimmer of new life.

His voice is clear to me. Melodic and beautiful, speaking words of sages and kings.

I hear his heart beat now. It is like a powerful drum of a thousand wild tribes dancing.

I see him rise above me. He is not that dying thing anymore. He is a prince of the stars. He is a God king.

I am happy now. I let my fingers loosen their hold. I feel myself slip away content to have seen him. Satisfied to be his witness. I am the door opened. I am the mirror broken. I am the window of the tower of the open field. I see clearly the way. I am not angry. I am not longing for more time. I know the cycle is complete.

Now I fade. As I sink my eyes into the ground that will receive me, as I let out my breath to fill my lungs with shallow death, as I humble myself to my I die.....I feel a young boys stare upon me. I am ashamed of his beauty and my decrepit state.

I feel his warmth near me....juxtaposed to my flesh and its unforgiving and distant cold. I see his round and well formed muscles...I look at my brittle bones and weathered hide. I am death before him. Ugly.

Then I feel his loving hand in mine. I hear his voice...."Dad"...

A father to a son to a father again. The cycle of life through the generations of man. As we pass through time, our immortality is sealed in those we leave behind and those we follow....lovingly.

A father and a son.

*be a father and a son more often than once a year. This year, love your fathers and your sons year round, everyday. Show them daily. Be their witness to their lives. Hold their hands. We are each others legacy. We are the "immortal" that we mortals can know. Its a matter of life and death. Death- like hearing that your father is facing death for the first time. Life- like hearing the doctor tell you "its a boy" for the first time.

Its always like the first time. We just grow tired and forget. We let go. Hold on I say. Hold onto each other. Dont let go of those moments.

This is more for the males of ATS, though it is still true for mothers and daughters. Dont let go once the holidays are over.

Have a good one
Hold it down

edit on 12 23 2014 by tadaman because: (no reason given)

posted on Dec, 23 2014 @ 09:16 AM
Very beautiful!

posted on Dec, 23 2014 @ 09:26 AM
a reply to: tadaman
Simply excellent.
Thank you!

posted on Dec, 23 2014 @ 09:43 AM
Thanks guys. I am glad you liked it.

It means allot to me that you enjoyed it.

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