Brooklyn, 1970

From the beginning, Son
you were our most profound joy,
a fresh poem finely etched in old gold,
holding fast to beauty and grace,
faithful to your own gentle spirit

Just yesterday
I retrieved my soul at last,
moved by the placid persuasion of a psalm
reminding me of my rootedness
in the archives of heaven

In earlier times
life lay ahead, a rhythm of reciting tones,
a paced chant before all that somber news
and facing facts and the quiet homely work
of peacemaking for your sake

But this morning
I awoke a fading mendicant nun,
reading my own rich requiem Mass,
a celebration of my heart’s trove
and your constant love

Another breath or two
and I’m a whisper in your ear,
just an old story of someone who birthed you
now melting into the ground of Being
leaving only our hallowed cord

Listen now, Son, to the voice in the wind.
. . . . .Listen, Son –
How love whooshes and swirls, encircles and fills,
echoing from our small Beginning
into the great Forever

© 2016, poems, Jamie Dedes, All rights reserved


Write a poem for your child or grandchild or a niece or nephew and share it or a link to it in the comments section below. If you are new to Wednesday Writing Prompt, please send a photo and short bio to It will be shared along with your poem/s by way of introducing you to readers … and to me.  🙂  Work shared on theme will be published here next Tuesday.  All are encouraged to participate: novice, emerging or pro.  You have until Monday, April 16, at 8 pm PDT to respond.


  1. Hi Jamie,

    Here’s my third response:

    Fixes It

    As a parent you believe
    you can fix everything.

    when they’re in pain,
    regrow bones, restore lost

    blood, a pillow for their head,
    neck hugged in bright,

    playcentre foam
    while enquiries are made,

    you cry hugfulls,
    then, you drive

    as fast as you can,
    imagine their absence as the worst

    now, you make them laugh
    warm their cold hands

    push their hair away from their eyes
    hold it, together

    hold it …..together
    hold it together

    I can’t have

    dogshit on surfaces,

    settee and chairs,
    kids in mucky diapers.

    hold it together

    but I have.

    hold it together

    but I have.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Hi Jamie,

    Here’s my second response:

    Cuddled Sobs Cradled

    hawk back shudder
    at vacuum absence
    of hugwarm.

    Gutempty, boneneed
    heartgripe ache
    for those once close
    now ashed in earth.

    in my arms she sobs
    for her mam’s voice,
    and my heartsob
    for my late mam’s voice.

    Rhythm of her grief
    as she nods on my chest
    almost lulls me to sleep.

    She shudders awake
    heaves herself to the floor
    as her mam, only on an errand
    walks a smile through the door.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Hi Jamie,

    Here’s my first response:

    New Soft

    nervous she does
    what she knows
    pushes a pram
    cuddles a baby

    moves others’
    toys that get
    in her way

    chews her toast,
    sups her juice
    asks where mummy is.
    where her sisters are.

    sobs at a boy
    in a Spiderman mask,
    rough and tumble
    older boys.
    wants her comfort cloth

    climbs, head over heels
    explores a soft world

    Liked by 1 person

  4. This is lovely, lyrical poem direct from the heart to the heart of any parent.It took me with it right from the first line.


  5. I’ve had so many thoughts about my son in the past month as we prepared for his wedding celebration. I feel I cannot put them into words and form, so I thank you for yours which remind me of all that is in my heart.

    Liked by 1 person

Thank you!

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