Last month I wrote about the 40th birthday of my oldest son Bill. In that missive, I made no mention of the fact that he is a poet, and a very good one at that. As it happens, today his post over at BillyBlog was about a new "feature" he was starting called Poetry Wednesday. I mention this because yesterday, while rummaging through some papers, I came across something I wrote on February 3, 1997, shortly after Bill and Mel told us that they were taking our very little 1st granddaughter and moving to New York from Los Angeles. So, in the spirit of the initiation of Poetry Wednesdays, I offer the following, 10½ years after it was written:
Move on Young Poet
A poet is a rare, endangered species;
One who moves emotions is rarer yet
We lucky ones who have a personal poet close up
never really appreciate the full measure of what we possess.
And now our poet moves on, taking with him the intimacy
of the past decade, the transitions in our lives, and the
culmination of his own love. He begins anew the journey
to fill out the spaces in his own life, to seek his way in the world,
to continue to grow as a poet must if the poetry is to continue to flow.
Our own personal poet will be missed more than he can fathom.
His soft words, his wondrous wit, the joy on his face
whenever he looks upon and cares for the child he helped create.
The absence of his very being whose poetry has lit our lives will
leave a void as our lives continue on through time
Go forth young poet. Go forth as you must, as generations before you
have gone, as generations to come will follow. Your physical presence
will be missed though we know we will never lose touch with you and yours.
Move on young poet. Share your vision with those who up to now have not
been blessed with the beauty and impact of your words. Let others discover
the incredible soul that burns within you.
The light within our home will dim without you here.
But your voice will still be heard and your words
will transcend the distance that is coming between us.
And you must understand that no matter where you are,
you continue to be our personal poet; one who has
eternally engraved his presence in our hearts and souls.
© 1997, L.S.Cohen