Letter from a Father to his Child

I watch you asleep in your crib.

My heart, a pulsar emitting beams of light.

Like hummingbirds your eyelids flicker,

Here I am wishing I were a net.

When I am away from you
My heart calls out a plaintive whale song.

I must admit, I find this startling

when I am showering or on the computer.

I wrestle with the knowledge

I cannot hold you as I did the day before.

I must constantly train to be The Man of A Thousand Holds,

A fact your teddy bear, my sparring partner, knows all too well.

I want to capture your coos and goos in Tupperware for a rainy day.

I look forward to your first swear word and your mother blaming me,

And teaching you the difference between Patty and Selma on The Simpsons.

I wonder how I'll react to the first date you bring to our front door.

They say you cannot hold onto a snowflake,

But if Pepsi can create a clear cola, impossible is just a word.

Greg Santos

Paris, France

November 13, 2010