The Boys RoomA Poem by riskrapperend the war nowThe first night you and your brother slept in this room you were entering Kindergarten. In sickness and in health this room restored you, sheltered you and kept you safe. It was a special place, where you found refuge and the space you needed to mature and grow. For thousands of nights, you safely slumbered here; experiencing fantastic dreams of danger and heroic adventure that fill the night reveries of all sleeping boys. For thousands of days, this room filled with daydreams and the happy clatter of play time as you wondered and prepared to become the man you were meant to be. I witnessed and experienced much of your journey through many of those days. I was anointed by this gracious blessing to see you, your brother and sister grow strong, independent, and united in close bonds of love, respect and trust for one another. My life has brought me no greater satisfaction then being able to provide you with the safety of a loving sanctuary where all this could be so. The day I watched you, as your brother did before stand in this room packing a duffel bag to leave for the service; I silently prayed that someday you would return to the safety of this room. I watched as you carefully reviewed all the items you had neatly laid out on your bed; boots, socks and uniforms; the necessities of a military life now replacing the orphaned play things filling the room. I knew as I watched you pack that I stood witness to a man putting away the childish things of youth; inconsequential artifacts for you that now held deeper meaning for me. The soldier was ready to leave his boyhood home to learn, train and prepare to lead other men in the serious business of war. The spring day sunshine that flowed into the room that afternoon framed you in a new magnificent light. I no longer saw the boy who had occupied this room for a few thousand days. I now looked upon a young man, resolute in purpose, of firm caliber and upright character standing before me. The former boy who grew up in this room had become a man dedicated to the serious pursuit of matters that engage men in a life of service and honor. It was a blessed experience to see you in this light, and come to the realization that this room would no longer be a safe sanctuary for you and I could no longer shield you from the dangers of the world. You are off to pitch vulnerable bivouacs and sleep in muddy foxholes; willingly placing yourself and the men you will command into harm’s way. It is said “The child is father to the man” and now it is left to you to assure the freedom and safety of a father who keeps your room ready with the expectant hope and fervent prayer of your safe return home. I love you. Dedicated with love and respect for GWM and PJM Paul Robeson: jbm 11/14/11 Oakland © 2012 riskrapper |
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