I watch him in my dreams
(waking hours are sometimes dreams, too)
with endearment streaming
through my veins
and my blood feels cold
with trepidation
as I wonder what drama
is unfolding
in the silver city
of his mind
yesterday in history
his nuptial knot etched in ink
gratified his manhood
nurturing today
a frenzied hope
and a family more refreshing
like honey-dew
innocent of what tomorrow heralds
as he gestates in a wheel chair
with MS wriggling his toes
and youth imprisoned
without trial or tribulation
and in this ocean of grief
I cry without tears
longing for my son
to see this world
from dusk to dawn.
Leonard Dabydeen
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/i-watch-him-in-my-dreams/
