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how many can say they love their sons and daughters purely.
how many can say their sons and daughters love them.
my heart is full with gratitude for my children.

so this poem, on jon's birthday, is dedicated to my gratitude that he turned out to be so fine.

'a birthday poem for my eldest son'

whenever i, in deserate straights
and in a dither, decry my fate
remembering my true self
i seek solitude
and in the utmost quiet
i find a new path… untrodden.

then, my vision of the future
for me and
for others
is renewed
until forgetful of what is above
i fall again
to be the prey of
mankind's foibles over and over again
until a thousand times
i succumb to desire
or give myself blindly to distractions
i come back again
a homing pidgeon
to the truth, the lack, the helpless true state
of being.
undaunted by these obstacles
like time and forgetfulness,
simply persevering with a clear aim…

to awaken in the end to the best use of my time
my confidence is restored… nay, not restored but
strengthened. and with that,
no need of faith, or hope, or false certitude
no ritual or dogma will be my crutch
for going on.

i will continue on my own recognizance.
and more and more remember why i am here.
why am i here? why are we here?
don't ask. just do.
the answer is in the doing.

I_ArtMan august 3rd. 2007
jonathan's birthday
jonathan means a 'gift of god', that's my oldest son.

just as in indian mythology 'brahmadatta' meant 'heaven sent' …