Becoming Thirteen

Go out into the world,

my son.

Sleep under the stars

in an old canoe,

learn to make fire

and sing songs

well into the night.

Jump for joy

and chase the jabberwock

deep into the dark

of the forest.

Hold a girl's hand sweetly

and steal a sacred kiss;

later hold her

in your arms

and sing to her

but above all else,

listen

to the songs

she sings to you.

Listen to the land,

and learn to honour

her,

and she will offer

up such riches

in return.

Have courage my son

in your Other World,

as your voice

sings to me in my dreams

with the soft, warm yet

sometimes awkward touch

of a young boy spirit

becoming man.

Thirteen years.

I feel your kicks

and somersaults

as though it were still

yesterday.