The Promise

By Carl Kopman

Birthed
He felt like
The Heartbeat of a feather
The Airness of a dream
The Emptiness of purity
The Eternal of eternity

His scent sweeter than lilacs
Skin softer than the softest touch
Eyes truer than his soul;
His soul bluer
Than the bluest sky

I coo to him of innocence
Aspiration and love
I promise him my honesty,
Fidelity and trust

I hold his precious body
in my aging hands
Anointing him the one
Whose breath was born
Of hope and joy
Son of my only son

Life will transpire between us
His first breath to my last;
Never quite the future
Rarely as the past

This cooing of my grandson
Is the song beyond the singing
Is the passing of my moment
Beyond my fleeting being.

Carl Kopman/Berkeley/4/2/2011