Honeydew Son
Creation of life cultivates patience from time in an unknown beginning.
Adventuring among bamboo stalks, I feel a dampened heat. A conscious summer portal, transformation of the meek. Inside bands of growing grass, dreaming to belong. I continue down a broken path humming love’s sweet song.
A year ago I walked this trail with nothing to be seen. Plain and flat, cracking ground, barren charred meat. I broke crusted soil, planted shoots, diverted stream to soak. Then walked each day tending grass springing from a moat.
I met you wading, pulling stalks, too young to shield our sun. Checking sticky honeydew leaves, breaking beams to burn. You shared a secret with a setting sky, torching disease to smoke. A barren nest of pleasure, wishing a lover to stoke.
Giants stretch from fertile ground, scratching cloud and sky. I weave my way through organic walls, passing shadows time. We met that day on broken grass, creating fingers bound to one. A song of happiness now breaks my chest, meeting our new born son.
Copyright Christopher Madsen 2021






