Response
(to Paternity)
All love is
unsafe, welded by passions,
and by emotion
twisted out of true. Yet
we
such modern humans tend
to think
of parenthood as mist
and roses,
gentle hearts and sweet
correction,
never for one moment remember
stuff of the ancients,
or the purple pain
of co-dependency, the
writhing
horror made by feelings
gone awry.
This parented bewilderment,
protective snarl, the
violence
of this need to stretch
out,
shake, and do ! These
mislead
powers and prisons, agonies
of fear
you have expressed for
me
almost in terms of wantonness.
Frustration and fear,
I guess
it is not always so. One
dreams,
one sits remembering first
steps,
sees once again small
bodies
walk away from us, the
tilt and fall,
the confidence
and would be there - somehow
prevent,
the coffin's hollow fall.
What can I say, since you
have said
it all ? Now all these
years
of foreign helplessness,
the struggle
with an ancient myth,
the words
all fallen silent and
awry. Knowledge
of cruelty's discipline,
the pain
of independent growth,
I want
to see my young
self sufficient
in their trust, I learn
to give away, to turn
my back
sit aloof, sit critical,
wield the correcting pen
who would give
shelter, blood and life
itself
all anguish to prevent.
Thus, power to intrude,
and power to push away,
and longing to respond,
these
bitter problems rent.
