Fantasies, like Words, Await What's Real

Fantasies, like words, await what's real,
Anchored only when attached to things.
The dream of fatherhood, that long-sought dawn,
Has now become the light of early morn,
Exact and merciless in what it brings:
Riches to which one can only kneel.
'Mid all the truths the package will reveal,
Sensing well the wonder as it sings,
Drawing well the world to which it's drawn,
A love beyond all words will give you wings,
Yielding joys beyond what you can feel.
Fathers and Daughters Have a Romance
Fathers and daughters have a romance
That goes on for the rest of their lives,
Destined to ripen and age as they dance
Through the days of their husbands and wives.
Up near the surface their love is distinct,
Like a garden surveyed in the sun,
In which seedtime and full bloom are credibly linked
By a consciousness shared and hard won.
Deep down below, where the world is a dream,
And the dream is a world of its own,
All manner of memories the moments redeem
In a place where one's never alone.
Fathers Can Be Solitary Mountains
Fathers can be solitary mountains,
All their love rock-like, steep, and strong.
Though warm and caring, somehow they belong
Halfway home to mothers' bubbling fountains.
Each of us needs love that knows no quarter,
Reminding us of bonds that cross a border,
Strengthening our sense of right and wrong.

Fathers Cannot Fathers Be
Fathers cannot fathers be
Alone, no matter where they are.
There is no mountain range or sea
High or wide enough to bar
Each child from traveling within,
Reuniting oft with him,
Secret sharer from afar.

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