Mirror of a Son's Eyes

He
has certainly
perfected the art
of being a smart a** -
a trait that swims like a tadpole
in his father’s gene pool
and nurtured by that very nature..
his tongue swells with sarcasm
his mouth just can’t contain
overflowing the once polite orifice
with a dam burst of wry words
wise cracks snapped! like a quick-witted whip with a grin
..that at once
both burns and tickles me
but
those eyes never change
from my cradle-arms
to a young man
they are still the cyan
of Monet’s Water Lilies
alive with electrical excitement
where voltage thrills the spectacle of imagination;
..as free to be as the aurora borealis shape-shifting
like a neon Norse god..
his horizon the runesmith scribing
upon the midnight vellum
a daydream designed by colors of musical notes..
this sensory rainbow a ribbon tied
to beyond the lip-lock of earth and sky..
a consciousness kissed with creative continuum
full of buoyant light yearning
to take flight across the cerebral airglow
seeking heights of deep space wonder -
a heart charged with cosmic currents
his soul akin to solar winds roaming the galaxies..
aha!
and t h e r e
is where I see myself in him -
yonder side of meager w a n t ...
his mind has wings
and n e e d s to fly!
..and I am wondering
how wonderful it would be
to be his age once again -
to string
my youthful wishes
upon a staid set of stars;
not the tragic magic of stardust
where a comet’s fireworks reigned
till one early morn
when meteor showers rained
my ill-fated dreams falling down -
O Libra
if only you had another chance to weigh
the arc of an outcome
….but then...
what would be of the golden mirror
I see my reflection in?
Susan Ashley
April 21, 2021
~ First Place ~
Premiere Contest: Open Poetry 3
Sponsor: Charlotte Puddifoot
Copyright © Susan Ashley | Year Posted 2021
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