You reach from your heart to touch the world.. a world that knows not how to meet this touch, a world that may recoil from the largesse of your being, a world that you long for, in infinite stretch, to reach, to touch, to hold outs its hand to you in return. As a father, holds out his hand for his son, to lead through the deep stead of his footprints, to mark the way in the soil of this life, how to stand as a man... the bones of your boyhood, the growing arc into man. He is your anchor and your way, your post to lean into and your guiding eyes as you tread this path of boyhood, as you learn to shave the face of a man.. I see you my son, the faces you will touch with your outstretched hand, the caress of your soul.. the voice you will bring to a world desperate to hear, a song you will sing of the future unfurling within the fabric of all. He is your solid in the growth of your youth, yet you are the arms of the man holding this world in your small frame.. your eyes knowing the freedom that is not yet lived, knowing the truth of family that is not yet formed. Your heart of hearts beats for all, it is not a single beat and yet it has been alone too long in this life. Too many have walked away from your outstretched hand, the unified tomorrow you feel today... too many times the world has yelled at you, to be quiet, less than, to hold it in, keep yourself separate, to not touch... and too many times your heart aches with the knowing of more, the love you have to give, the depth of being in union you have to share with many.
Where he meets you my son, is the heart of his knowing, family beyond the defines and confines, the lines drawn in the sand that never made sense to you. Where he meets you my son is in the beat of his heart as father, that knows the family union of your heart, the longing, the reach, the rhythm of the hearts that are only true together, the one note of your pure song... where he meets you my son is in the breath of his lungs as father, the breath that holds you steady in your new stance, that gives rise to your being, both the mountain beneath your feet and lift to opens your wings. Your song to lift to the heavens and spiralled through all to rest within the earth herself. Where he meets you my son is in the strength of his spine to stand on this earth as father, weighing all action from his vast heart, a scale of justice and truth, a countenance to depend on. Where he holds you my son is the embrace of a father in his highest dominion, holding his family beyond responsibility, redefining the core, the weightlessness of his gift dissolving your need - the earth ever on your shoulders, the support always just out of reach. Where he sees you my son, is in the vision you hold, the future you bring, that meets his own vision, his global consciousness, his gift to humanity, the tapestry you weave and gaze upon together, the threads and steps you choose, the tools you work with... the heart of the home of all homes you build together Where he meets you my son is in the validation of all you are and all you have ever known... no longer out of reach, he rests inside your heart as you rest in his... the heart of the man in the boy... Koru