Father is not just one
who gives birth to children
I have seen friends
who lost their father
when they were in teens
and had to play role of father
They curbed childish instincts
to be carefree, play, eat and sleep
They calmed fear of family
stating in childish tone
gloom days too shall pass by
Tried to earn a bit they could
sacrificed their own dreams
but kept siblings dreams alive
would study and work
to keep the home fire burning
Days passed by
Life became stable
All siblings
achieved their goals
Teenage father rewarded
for sacrificing childhood
Grown up siblings
still regard elder brother
as a father figure
An inspiring tale
of father who became father
before giving birth to children
Father is anyone
who nurtures anyone not just own
_________________________________
© Hitendra Mehta
giving birth in spring
fresh gardenia opening
fragrancing this earth
May 30, 2020
10:30am PST
Poem # 1,307
daddy, wash me, nurture give me birth,
Me your son, of your loins, you I don’t trust;
past me through your birth canal,
liken mothers would give me birth…
7/22/19
Written by James Edward Lee Sr.2019©
Your thought’s are created through your words
Then your pen brings life to them
As you tap, tap, tap on your computer
You see this life begin in front of you
Creating a memory that will last though time
Many will read your thought’s that you had on your mind
Connecting all the minds that have read it
Bringing us all together in a sweet harmony
Some will comment on what they have read
Building a closer family and as you reply
They will see with their own eyes
Your thought’s have blended together
Both of those minds together through time
Of what you have created using their minds
Creating words with sound and meaning
The illustration of love creating the birth of poetry
Giving birth
in a sterile room
machines
green gowns medical masks and gloves
float around me
medication squirts into my spine
my legs are no longer conscious
but I am
Waiting
as if from someone else's body
he is pulled from my abdomen
Tugging against his resistance
they retrieve him
he does not want to leave me
not knowing that I am his destination
his CRY
loud
primitive
angry
Not yet human
fills the sterile room
when they bring him to me
swaddled
clean
pink
he tries to peer out of swollen eyes
at his destination.