Paternity

       This love is unsafe
        such that it flies
        full in the face
        of an open coffin's guest
        whose friends in cold distress
        had enwrapped to the teeth
        of a shallow sheath

        This love that brooks
        no breaking shores,
        nor broody cliffs
        nor bounds of play
        this overreaching
        time forsaking
        blood rich passion

        This love that ranks
        the Iliad, Odyssiad,
        Aeneid, but a weekend jaunt
        that makes of eternity
        but a transitory

        This love with more
        than the power to burst
        a billion burgeoning buds
        into premature blossom
        from one whose merest
        thought ingrates creation

        Such is the love of
        this father for his son.