Sunday, January 20, 2013

To My Son... In Prison

To My Son...
                          In Prison

               There is comfort tonight
knowing you have a place to lay your head, food to eat,
not telling lies about your comings and goings,
the strange calls, people knocking at the door at all hours 

               Trying these past years to know you
to break through the barrier,
to love unconditionally,
accepting the person you have become,
hating that which I was unwilling  or afraid to admit 

I once tried to convince myself I had been given the wrong child 
at birth, that you belonged to some Amish couple of inter-relational 
relations but the evidence is overwhelming

I will miss your innocence and so will you
as you pass from one portal to another 
not having the luxury of touch 
nor the pleasure of scent but only the daily reminder 
of razor wire and what you forfeited for the sake of pleasure 

But for now
you have a place to lay your head, food to eat, no lies to share 
you will be older than you can imagine when you utter freedom 

I mourn
I grieve
and yet I love

~ tamara farner-swerline