street light

giuseppe pellizza da volpedo il sole che sorge

in the space of a moment

a moment

in which the space

becomes so much more than itself

my son

crying

and unburdening himself of his pain

the deep and enduring pain of self-doubt

of only knowing himself

as he imagines others know him

and in that very same tiny moment

i'm driven by the same great dark wind

that's blowing through his head

back to that same unknowing

the entirely alone time

of being sixteen

with the world rushing all around me

when the parameters of my life were contained

within four small walls

and all i knew to do

was to channel what i knew of the creative force

(the very weak thread of light that i knew then

as the creative force)

into small paintings

and little poems

believing in them as if they were all my family

and all my friends

gathered

with only one purpose in mind

they were all i had

joseph rippl-ronai dawn in an intimate room

and at the end of each day

i was drawn to my window that looked out

over a very carefully contained

and manicured suburban park

and watching the light slowly fade

i wondered

at what point will my life come to life?

now

here's my son

with the very same question

leaving his mouth

and i'm no closer to knowing the answer

than i was then

i just know to let it be

to let life become

when it will

and that's all i can tell him

all that a lifetime has taught me

all that i have

besides holding him tight

are the words

"wait . . it'll find you . . . or perhaps, you'll find it"

gino severini lampione di porta pinciana