Thus ends the year. Though much has been taken, much abides, to quote Tennyson’s “Ulysses,” and something big begins: My daughter Milo became engaged as autumn turned to winter, to a man we love too. The rainbow photo, taken in the mountains of northern California, is for her, my child who has always loved this symbol of hope.
This final post of 2011 is for love. Love is not blind. With eyes wide open, love sees, bears, believes, forgives, and celebrates. Love does fail, but it can dust its mucky knees and stand again. Its strength is tensile, a bond capable of stretching beyond the reach of human arms.
My daughter said I have never written a poem for her. So I wrote one last night for her and the man she loves, whom we met for the first time at a storage facility where our daughter lived with her best friend in the manager's apartment. With their permission, I share it with you on the last day of a hard year that ends with rejoicing, in love.
My Child’s Freshly Minted Fiancé
We did not have to wade
through an ocean of assholes to reach you;
you, unbidden, appeared,
to claim our daughter’s hand, heart, hazel eyes
laughing as we had never seen her eyes laugh
You, unbidden, appeared,
a Knight in a storage yard where junk is gold,
where junk unwanted yet unloosed is locked
behind blank doors
in an undead limbo between lost
and claimed, paid for but
from that storage yard into our daughter’s heart,
in chain-link fencing, your clear eyes kind
and your mind keen, seeing in our daughter
that great beauty
like a flower in a crack in the asphalt
you freed her.
|Milo and Kaleb|