New Day

A poem for my father.

Some day, maybe, when I’m your age

I’ll look back on the smiles that have creased the face of this drawn canvas

Of our family tree

I will watch as the world passes by me like laps around a city street

I will hear the words you told me when I was young

I will remember the importance of what you’ve done

To bring me up in the forest of rooftops, under your wing

To here the sound of this timelessness ring

And the timid steps forward afraid of mistakes

Will be the greatest keepsake, the food on my plate

The days by the lake, the soft sands and faith

Of the roll of the waves

Of a summer night’s blaze

Of an autumn wind’s shiver

Of a wintered wonderland’s gaze

Or the Spring, the dew of trees glimmering tranquility

Or the song of the city alone in the night

Or the longer days wilting, under the dawn of a scythe

Or people I know who have come and gone

For all that I know shouts from dusk till dawn

I see the time go like a dying wildfire in the rough

Steel rhymes that call my iron will a bluff

As the words that lift mountains

Become the foundation, the pillars of creation

The heaven of my memories

Endless as the mosaic of fallen stars

The night sky a cave I haven't fully explored

Feeling around the stumbling umbrage of thunderclouds' underworld

Lost on the pathway to tomorrow

Someday, maybe, when I'm your age

Across the stormy seas that bleed melodies of aquamarine eternity

I will find my way back home

Inside the lost labyrinth's lavender avalanche

The library corridors of this forest of words I have sown

Overthrowing bad omens of harlequin deity's of poems

The pages of history stained by the ink I have stolen

Frolicking in the meadowland fairy-twin-tales of void

The two-faced headlines, the flip of a coin

 

Author's Note

I promise I read every single review, and I generally will reply to them. I look forward to my next review, because it helps me learn. Even if it's just one word, I promise, I will be happy to hear anything you feel needs sharing. Whenever you write on my shortcomings or breakthroughs, or the themes of my poems, or share ideas and friendly criticism, it decides my next poem to an extent. I will listen, learn and be thankful. And 99% of the time, you'll get a reply unless you're trolling me.

Reviews

[NotUsinganymore]

Very sweet poem about loss. I really enjoyed it.

[R.J Calzonetti (SinisterPotatoe)]

I'm glad you did! :)

[.]

A beautiful poem for your dad! If you didn't show this to them yet, you should show him. Often when we write poems or take my case if I make someone's portrait I don't prefer showing but when they discover that I feel silly for being so shy. When it makes a wide grin on their face it's just unforgettable.
I didn't write poems for dad but we did a little celebration at home. He's my one and only most unique genius Father...haha!

[R.J Calzonetti (SinisterPotatoe)]

I did show it to him, he liked it! :)

Yes, fathers are strict, but generally they have a good heart.