That & This

We have gently captured your soul

a willing prisoner,

in these jewel moments of your life

although they are just photos on the piano?

 

We have captured the growing girl:

here,

the beaming infant in you –

hands spread wide

to span the joy,

to contain the view,

you,

lying toothless on the play-mat

your sister used;

or here,

an older you

refusing the snap,

hands up batting away the camera

like some over-papped celebrity –

your crooked, self-conscious teeth

before retainers.

School photos and

birthday songs

holidays,

sing-a-longs.

For us

a record of your history

to check that we

have done the best we can.

For you

a list of treasure times

that step you from

Not that

to That

which you choose to

Be.

A road map to

look back at

and look forward from.

And I am

This

and have been caught by you, too,

in your mind’s eye.

But I, for you, have always been

This,

just This.

For as you grow

your change of view

accommodates the me you know

the fixed point

safe, slow

unchanging

as you come and go.

This is you, father.

My father is This.

Now you have left home

and your visits are less frequent

and the sliding of the years

appears to speed.

And you will see

This

age.

While you are not here

you will see the crest

fall

and the crumpling page

of my face as my cheeks sag

around the growing gaps in my teeth.

Muscles will slacken,

Jowls drop.

Where once I could contain the

issues of my body

now, I cannot.

And this crumbling hair 

will give up these final

feeble efforts

and you will see

the wind blowing

through the gaps

between hair and scalp

and realise that

This,

too,

shall pass.

Me reading That & This on Soundcloud