To my Grandson


You loped down the stairs,
The outline of your
Boyhood receding
Like mist
In sunlight
Your body stretching
Into manhood
Unknowing and
With nonchalance
You carried the
Shadow of
Your uncle
You are the
Man, of the future
That strange amalgam
Of your father,
Fears and insecurities.
Their hopes and graces.
And lessons crystallised
We men, we spend
Our lives wondering
If we are enough
Insecurities gnawing
At us, while we race
With anxious desperation
Trying to prove
We are enough
But you are
This, whatever
Life gifts you
You are
You will look
For love
And love you will
But love will hurt
For such is its nature
It must hurt
To refine
When love has hurt
Then you will find
It is not the love
You find that counts
It is the love you learn
To have for
You will look
For friends
And friends
You will find
But do not grow
Downhearted, when
Friends betray or fail you
For such is the nature
Of friends.
True friends are
Few and far between
It is not the friends
You have, but the
Friend you are
To yourself
So, my grandson
As you stretch
Into manhood,
You are enough
You always will be
Love, hold it lightly.
It comes and goes
But always love yourself.
Remember, loneliness
Is life’s way of
Giving you the
Opportunity to be
A friend to yourself.
Mistakes, you will
Make them
Do not be afraid
Of them
For that is how
You learn
The time will come
When you will
Rest in your strength
Be at peace in your love
And be a friend to yourself
A time when you will
Watch your grandson
Lope towards you
That strange
Amalgam of his fathers,
Grandfathers and
Fears and insecurities.
Their hopes and graces.
And lessons crystallised.

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