At Liberty to:
Be a friend.
Per, suits of armor.
Clad.
I am just a child
in the employment
of a common
language.
Scoffing.
Questioning.
Holding accountable
stars as reflections!
Mine eyes?
Glory is only a dream –
only a dream, my son.
The callous is proof
of hard labor.
The mind, weary
I am lost – but fit
for duty.
So, wake!

All this – is not a
game.

It’s the
rolling of dice …
wind blowing
stories across the
pines, the howling
of the branches.
Wake, everything is
& nothing is, in waiting.
My kisses to your cheek,
my Son, are
rapture enough for me.
Your growing is a miracle!
Your love and the love of.
I said, wake son,
your love is the liberty
I am after.