Dad

When I look in the crystalline shards of a morning’s reflection,

I’m seeing more and more of the reflection you’ve given me.

Coming to peace with the split in my personality,

I notice and love more and more of the gifts you’ve sent to me,

Through nature and nurture.

The frustration from failure and dropped expectations

Have paved the way over the years to peace in my routine.

Where the red side of my birthrites languished in love threatening stagnancy,

The corners of blue in my pockets and corneas drove me like a motor onwards.

I’m sure you know the anatomy of a cornea far better than I (eye) at this point,

But I’m sure somewhere between our methods of extracting,

We can both find happiness underneath the layers of somebody’s gaze.

Our sights are singular,

Purpose intermingling with dogma,

How else could you graduate top of your class, millimeters from catastrophe?

It’s a dogged determination I’ve learned from you,

That’s fed the hues of my leftmost blue

That spells a story birthday candles can’t do justice.

Often, I wonder what you felt like at the age I’m coming across now.

I wonder if the hope you had for next generation’s creation

Has brought pride to the meticulous upbringing of a future come true.

I wonder, at 20, if we struggle with similar strides,

Was it as hard to keep composure and poise?

You’ve paved the way for my success in ways only a wish for a better life can.

Some day, in a coming February 25th,

We’ll celebrate your life and your birth and your legacy of memories

With new aspirations manifested into your extended family.

There were times I feared we wouldn’t have those moments.

Roadside malice closed the doors for a moment,

I couldn’t form the feelings to put shape to that fear,

And I still don’t know how to now.

But that hurdle has miraculously passed.

You remain with us.

So here’s to another February 25th.

I know you’ve never been a man of gifts,

But I can’t help but glow at this fateful gift and sigil.

To many, many more Februaries

Where the second power of five adds another tick

To the celebrations given to Michael Pucci.

It was the first exponent I ever learned when my age was the first power,

When you opened the doors and made me believe in myself.

I love you.

 

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