Humanities 101

Humanities 101

He is heart of my heart.
He is wide-eyed and wonderfull.
His dew drop lips are trying so hard.
So hard to make the sounds that will lead to speech.

He looks at me and we are connected without words.
Bonding through the everyday necessities of life.
He is wise for his days.
An old soul with an ageless heart.

I want him to be strong and undefiled.
I present him proudly to the western medicine man.
I hold him after the sharp sting.
He sniffles and smiles.

Awakened from well-deserved sleep.
He is  burning and screaming.
Pow-wowing all night in songs and prayers.
Where are you my son?

Yellow-tinged, and oh so very tired you emerge.
But not completely for your words are gone.
He is still asleep.
I will cover him  in healing kisses.

Body growing leaps and bounds.
The mind also but they just can't see it yet.
Daily life in a time machine of
Repeat, repeat, repeat.

He is knowledge assimilating in a kalidescope .
Shaken and stirred into fragments.
Rearranged by upsets in routine.
The contents undeciphered but priceless.

They analyze him for profit.
He analyzes them with wiser eyes.
He sees through the piety of professionalism and insincerity.
He makes small talk with ease to avoid the taboo subjects.

He has told me a joke today.
One he made up himself .
We laugh and laugh till it hurts deliciously.
There is light in his eyes and dew drops on his lips

The standard social skills seem boring and contrived now.
You have been a godsend to me.
I have become a fighter not just for you but for myself.
I have faced demons that you have cornered for me.

Where are you my son?
In my pen and in my heart, always in my heart.
In you I have found a better world that needs no words.
But you have given me words and now I write them