Written by Bill Willson 2003 and published in “The Goblet of Life”

(see published works)


Is there a creature less fearful

than a little child?

Rushing forward into the future undaunted.

My heart and his, so close

in his first twenty minutes.

Eleven million later, I contemplate.

Leave me alone! he says.

The silence is a deafening roar.

Please let him hear me pray.

His young heart so full of love,

would never a lost creature hurt.

Now his silence brings me pain.

Which path will he choose?

Will I ever really know

Until he sets his course?

My flesh and bone, my blood.

The one for whom I pray.

Why must our hearts be separated?

My boy, my only son.

Do I dare hope?

My joy, his life work commenced,

and I live to see him hold

his own son in his arms.

About bmwillson1936

I was born with writer's DNA, but it receded to the depths of my soul when I encountered the bitter facts of life.Much later after five decades of living I was assigned by my employer to write legal conveyances of land documents, and this drew out my natural love of words and putting ideas into the paper prison. Thus began my quest for publication.The road was long and bumpy, with occasional pitfalls, but I'm staying on until I can no longer put words on the paper that make any sense or serve no valid purpose. Here's to rebirth and the celebration of writing
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