More of that poetry stuff

The man that saw me as a child and the child that saw me as a man

Can I tell you how hard I fought to grow up?
No matter what I did I still was the child
You were proud all my life when I did the grownup things
How delighted you were when I began to talk
How you beamed when I began to crawl and walk
Beginning school and even jobs eventually
Even as I grew into all the things men do
Part of me remained a child
That part that ever lived in the back of your eyes

There was a part of me that never left those days
When seeing the pride in your eyes was everything
Others could certify and recognize my accomplishments
The established authority could give me frame-able evidence
Still it paled in relationship to the feeling I got
When the child in my heart burst into your room
Excitedly carrying the proof of my accomplishment
To show it to you and to see once more
The child that still lived in the back of your eyes

I could see him, you know

He would awaken from some light slumber
He would come close to the side of your eyes
And as he heard you go on about whatever prize I had brought
He would begin to glow faintly
As you would scrutinize the evidence
As he read with you every word
Every whereas and hitherto
He would come to a sparkle
Barely noticeable to those gathered around
But the child half that resided within me
Saw the brother that still resided within you
And for that moment
I lived as a boy that still needed his father’s approval

For all our relationship may have become
This part of it seemed ordained to remain
The child that lived within me always needed to be in touch
With that child that lived still in the back of your eyes
That symbiosis sustaining both
Each carrying to and carrying from
Both the child I thought I would always be
And the child you thought you would always see
 
Then one day
Quite unexpectedly
You went away

The adult I had turned into knew the day would come
Even unexpectedly, my heart had tried to prepare me
I had filled my life with relationships designed to replace
I had established other ports to share my goods
They offered the heartfelt pat on the back
They brought the warmth of societal recognition to bear
They stood ready to replace
That one place that could never be replaced
For all their warmth and genuineness
They did not have the child I would always be
Living deep within the back of their eyes

No matter how often the child inside came to see
There was no child other half looking back at me

Dad, I miss so many things about our relationship
Others have stepped up to try to fill
No one does so in any attempt to take your place
They do so merely to fill your empty space
None of these, however, can fill this space

It has come to me finally some fifty plus years past my birth
That the child I recognized so intently in your eyes
The child that called out so earnestly to the child in mine
Was there before I was even born
He was in part, part of the joy you had for me as your son
And part of the child that lived in your eyes
That always looked for the child in his father’s eyes

I thought the child living in the back of my eyes would die
When you left so abruptly that day in March
I knew he would languish and pass without his symbiotic partner
But I have found, and none too soon
He lives just fine
He sparkles and shines
And exchanges his knowing glances
With the children that still live in the eyes of mine
My sons and daughters still seek him
Even if they do not know it
 
There is a child still living behind their adult eyes
And that child still bursts into dad’s room
Bearing the authentication of their accomplishments
They bring the frame-able evidence into the court
They know they are fulfilling the role of adult
But there is a child living deep inside
That comes to find the child living deep inside
And they sparkle and shine
As the children that never die
Behind the sparkles in dad’s eyes

I cannot see the child that lived in your eyes anymore
I will miss him ever
But his work and legacy go on
He has taught me to ever see
The children living deep inside
Hiding playfully behind
The adult in my children’s eyes

Ron Simpson, Jr.
March 27, 2009