Who he would be

morris 126

 

 

He mimicked the walk of his father.

Step after step, trying to match his stride.

His small legs attempting to cover the same ground, but struggling to keep up.

The father looked down at the boy and smiled at his efforts.

He gave a chuckle that felt warm like praise – rewarding his son’s heart.

And the boy basked in the glow of the twinkle in his father’s eyes.

Delighted that his father saw something in him that would warrant such a glow.

Gifted with the feeling that he held something special enough to cause the man to shine.

And in that moment, the boy saw his future self.

Deciding that one day he would be such a man.

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27 thoughts on “Who he would be

  1. Unfortunately far too many youths in today’s society have no father/father figure present in their lives to behold the wonder expressed in your poem. Thanks support my blog.

  2. Nice! My eldest has a lot of his father’s traits and always did and his father didn’t raise him at all………… Did you know that a baby boy ( studies and mimics his father) from nearly birth? it’s an instinctual thing believe it or not, and it has something to do with not wanting to be abandoned by dad. I found that so interesting.

  3. Wow! That is really interesting. Thanks for sharing that with me, and thanks again for reading. I appreciate your support! πŸ™‚

  4. Devan, YW, and I love your blog. yes learned that from my wonderful daughter- in law who is the mother of my only grandson. She is an acupucturist, studied Alternative Intergrative medicine. Amazing lady and one has nothing to do with the other but she is very smart ( great mother ) and all. One day right after Ev’s birth I was watching him watch his daddy. And I said “LOOK at that! ” And that’s when she enlightened me about what our baby Evan was actually doing. πŸ™‚ Purely instinctual they say! Like suckling is. Very interesting!

  5. When my brothers and I were little we used to spend a lot of time in the forest with our dad. I have a memory from one winter, we were trying to jump between the footprints he’d left in the snow as he led the way. My brothers and I were laughing, I don’t remember much else. I’ve never thought that my father and I are much alike, I’m more like my mother. At least that’s what I used to think until one day when I looked into the mirror and realised that not only was I wearing the same kind of old-man shoes my dad always does but our clothes and style are eerily similar. “Holy shit, I dress like my dad,” I thought. For a moment I was shocked but then I just laughed. : )

  6. Thank you!! I think we just pressed “like” on each other’s pages at the same time. Haha! πŸ™‚

    So glad that you could relate! Thanks again for reading!

  7. Devan, Wow! I love the softness and charm of this poem, written with such an easy grace! Lovely! I’m so glad you’ve chosen to follow my β€œRanda Lane…” blog:

    http://randalane.wordpress.com

    β€œRanda Lane…” is now devoted entirely to haiku, tanka, other short verse forms, and occasional humor pieces.

    Your own blog is sooo impressive, I’ll be visiting often!

    Best Success,

    -R-

  8. One of my fondest memories is the feeling of my two-year-old son’s tiny fingers gripping mine as we walked somewhere. Today he is 35 and has one of his own the same age. Wow.

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