Canto LXXII

Some evenings we forget about the life
that grows within you, other than the times
when symptoms rear up. Funny thing, belief,

its normal function is to give the frame
to all that we experience anew—
the very nature of it is mundane,

its take-for-granted-ness provides the glue
that holds our worlds together, even when
we know that what we believe isn’t true.

And there’s the danger, that for which we yearn
can become real, become the vantage point—
the very point that must remain unseen.

I think of times when knackered Daddies can’t
be arsed to play choo-choo with hyper tots,
or hide behind a widened broadsheet tent

to shield themselves from constant whys and whats
from insatiably curious infant brains.
Of course, right now I swear blind I will not

become that cliched paternal villain,
and yet I know that sometimes I forget
our first born child, untouchable within,

that may, in its time, know the same regret.

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1 Comment (+add yours?)

  1. peter litton
    Nov 12, 2011 @ 01:09:38

    Been there, done that and enjoyed every minute of it. Feeding the ducks in the park, seen from a whole new view point…wicked! You’ll love it.

    Reply

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