My wife and I are due to have a baby boy in January. I don’t know how one prepares for a first child, but as someone who writes poetry, that is how I am doing it (as well as, of course, buying lots of things for his nursery and all). Anyhow, these are just little notes I I’ve been imagining saying to my son: as I’ve seen him coming more alive; as I’ve seen my wife go through this amazing process; as I’ve thought about his life to come and the conversations we will have as he grows and explores this God-given world.
Notes for my Unborn Son
I.
where to begin?
with a handful of dust
and a prayer
I know less than I did
when I started this poem
I have become less
and wild John was right
I must
II.
last week I had a group of college students
staying at our house
their eyes wonder-wide
hungry for the wisdom we call advice
and I gave it
like a fool
but son
we never get there
we never feel sure
we merely cup our frail hands
before the pouring fountain
and pray to our Father:
more, more, more
III.
life is inexpressibly
beautiful
your mother walks by me
humming to herself in reverie
and again she is an angel, a quiet mystery
floating past in her silken robe—
what words, what feeble cages
could contain even her shadow?
IV.
I once saw a young man
pluck a tulip from a bed
but for me and God
and the watchful dead
deep in the soil:
he was alone
he walked twenty yards
and tossed it in the trash
I also held hands
with an old woman
dying at the hospital
all of her family
prayed and sang
like cherubs before dark
her fearless eyes glowed
when we saw her glimpse
our veiled future
at times this all may seem
terrible, aimless, futile
but trust me that pain
ends, suffering
transfigures, death
at the close
meets her reflection
and shudders
V.
I am sorry God called me
to this pilgrim
cross-haunted life
I am sorry the world
is the world
I am sorry that I
am not Jesus
I am sorry to drown you
in his waters
to join you
to his sufferings
his costly, narrowing life
I pray I only bury you once
but child
I know of no
other road
that finds
Love
VI.
forgive me
for wanting to save
you already
give me time
to trust you to God
a few moments
where your fragility
does not frighten me
but emboldens me
to become strong
I know that someday
I will let you save me—
feed me nurture me
I will let you sell my home
make all the decisions
even cry like I taught you
more than I ever could
but long before my stone is overgrown
I will lose you to the happiness
of sense and life—I will long
to lose you
I will beg you
to wash me
into the realm of dreams
but for a moment
till that moment
cry and cry away this night