Son (For J.M.W. My Little One) (2005r) Poem by Patrick Wescott

The waves crash the shore,
like the thoughts in my mind.
And the storm swells
to the point of breaking.
To look at this child
is like looking at the past.
A picture of me forgotten,
before the time of changing.
He looks at life with a smile,
a look of innocence that is alien to me.
His thoughts are of the future,
while mine regret the past.
To see him is a hope
of recapturing my soul.
For in his youth
his mind is free to dream.
So hold on my son,
forget not this time.
When the world is yours,
and you are its master.