Agape.

And to my son

Yet to be born

I can hear you

With a gentle voice

kind enough to silence broken hearts

And soft enough to ease my worry

You will ask me

“And what of the world?”

To which I will reply

Remembering

The shape of the trees that

Danced along the borders of your home

Your grandfather, whose smile was just as rare and comforting as the stark winter days,

who will love you a little more gently.

Your uncles who will cherish you

Semper et aeternum

And clothe you in belly laughs and pictures

of your dad’s half-maintained Afro

The wars that tore down nations

tears that were barely supplied

And failures that were seasoned with mediocrity.

Followed by long nights in my lover's arms

Thinking of the names we will call you

Places we will show you

And all the odd joys unique to our little life

“Oh, it’s everything,” I respond

“You will make this beautiful”