How do I grab seventeen years of wordsAnd wrap them into one page
When I can’t remember each detail
Of that day you came to life
And we shared cold toast and worry,
Laughter and fear?
How do I turn my age into wisdomWhen you’re learning more than me,
When you know more than I do,
And I am clueless, and your pain
Is more than I can paint?
Remember that walk, when you wereMuch younger, and wrote your words
Into another one of my poems? That’s
Always my living memory of your birthdays,
When you became more than the sum of me.
How do any of us grab a life andThrow it into a few lines of letters?
The possibilities are endless, and finite.
All things are a contradiction, as we are,
Hot and cold, loving and hating
From one second to the next.That’s how we always will be,
The way we are built;
Sharp and blunt.
How do I grab all those years of youAnd make new words again?
I look at you, and hug you,
And see a whole fresh universe,
Far beyond what I have created.