He looks like me

Who is he?

This young man looks like me.
He is my co-creation.

His mother carried and nourished him,
We have tried to guide.
Encouraged him
These thirteen years.

A lifetime left to go . . .

He seems to feel things I recall.
I cringe at all he must go through.

He is so like his mother
That I relive our courtship again.

My love for him is deep,
Beyond fathoming,
As if it were
My own love for life.

If I could
I would give him all I know:
A database file
Direct to his mind.
Whatever wisdom I’ve earned.
Struggle and heartache.
Moments of joy.

All we can do
Is moment by moment:
Reassurance.
Shared laughter.
Common tears.
Advice.
Stories from life.
Dose by dose,
Day by day.

This young man looks like me,
But he is another self,
Beyond my grasp.



I cannot make him love what I love,
But I can nourish his mind and spirit
With love and excursions
From which he will sculpt his own being.

He will protect himself from my judgement
Though I judge myself more harshly.

This young man looks like me.
He is my boy,
Yet he is his own man.

My son,
May you walk with courage in spite of darkness.
May daylight brighten your days.
May you live with satisfaction of work well done.
May your friends be many and faithful.
May love find you in many places,
And may you find many to give yours to.
May your love also grow deep and strong.
May your children be blessed
And your grandchildren many.
And may our love find its way to them all.




G. Douglas Clarke
March 20, 2010