My Michael
I once held a baby in my arms
Yellow: He was jaundiced and
I took him out to get some sun.
Sleepless, I kept his late night company
Hail! His first haircut, his first words,
his first steps, his first song.
I was his uncle.
I once took a toddler to the circus
Purple: He was lonely and
I showed him places he had never seen.
Amused, I was to see his every smile.
Rejoice! His eyes lit up each time I'd call his name
and he would come to me.
I was his godfather.
I once lived my life with a wide-eyed boy in tow
Red: The Christmases and special days
we shared and celebrated.
Happy, his face was bright; forgetting all his pains.
Cheer! His laughter resonated
as we fooled around for endless hours.
I was his friend.
I once put my arm on a teenage shoulder
Green: He was in awe of those more fortunate.
I told him life holds promises.
Confused, he was. I consoled him.
Encouraged. Scolded. Nudged. Reared.
As I have learned, and so I taught.
I was his mentor. He was my student.
I once loved a young man with all my heart
Black: The night the phone rang
and I answered the call all parents dread to hear.
Black as my world had stopped and life lost its color.
Heavy. I carried him like leaden boulder.
Cold, I grasped his hands and they were cold
or was I just numb with sorrow?
Grief! Oh, Michael’s name, from then on, I shall never call again.
Despair! Oh, Michael’s name, from then on, I shall only read
as written on his epitaph.
I was his pall bearer.
Oh! I still love that young man with all my soul.
White: The pages in his album that were meant
for things that might have been.
White as the emptiness which nothing
in this world can ever fill.
Tragedy! As the silence that comes
after every question asking “Why?”
Hopeful, I wait for shadows deep into the night.
A visit. A voice. A footstep. A scratch.
For all I have and all that I would give for one more day
when all the riches of this world
are not enough for just a single minute.
Inconsolable, I am.
Neither widower nor orphan
in the realm of labels when for me,
there would be none.
No single word, not one
to describe the pain of losing a dear child.
Yes, I am his witness.
Copyright ©2006 Ronnie C. Cabañes
Yellow: He was jaundiced and
I took him out to get some sun.
Sleepless, I kept his late night company
Hail! His first haircut, his first words,
his first steps, his first song.
I was his uncle.
I once took a toddler to the circus
Purple: He was lonely and
I showed him places he had never seen.
Amused, I was to see his every smile.
Rejoice! His eyes lit up each time I'd call his name
and he would come to me.
I was his godfather.
I once lived my life with a wide-eyed boy in tow
Red: The Christmases and special days
we shared and celebrated.
Happy, his face was bright; forgetting all his pains.
Cheer! His laughter resonated
as we fooled around for endless hours.
I was his friend.
I once put my arm on a teenage shoulder
Green: He was in awe of those more fortunate.
I told him life holds promises.
Confused, he was. I consoled him.
Encouraged. Scolded. Nudged. Reared.
As I have learned, and so I taught.
I was his mentor. He was my student.
I once loved a young man with all my heart
Black: The night the phone rang
and I answered the call all parents dread to hear.
Black as my world had stopped and life lost its color.
Heavy. I carried him like leaden boulder.
Cold, I grasped his hands and they were cold
or was I just numb with sorrow?
Grief! Oh, Michael’s name, from then on, I shall never call again.
Despair! Oh, Michael’s name, from then on, I shall only read
as written on his epitaph.
I was his pall bearer.
Oh! I still love that young man with all my soul.
White: The pages in his album that were meant
for things that might have been.
White as the emptiness which nothing
in this world can ever fill.
Tragedy! As the silence that comes
after every question asking “Why?”
Hopeful, I wait for shadows deep into the night.
A visit. A voice. A footstep. A scratch.
For all I have and all that I would give for one more day
when all the riches of this world
are not enough for just a single minute.
Inconsolable, I am.
Neither widower nor orphan
in the realm of labels when for me,
there would be none.
No single word, not one
to describe the pain of losing a dear child.
Yes, I am his witness.
Copyright ©2006 Ronnie C. Cabañes
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