by Ronald G. Auguste
(For Byron Auguste, my Son)
You are the elder from my seed.
Well nurtured, may you bloom and grow,
Above the bramble and the weed –
And may you bend when strong winds blow.
May all your branches know the sun,
And may your leaves be always bright,
Yet always green, with veins that run
In shades of gold, both day and night.
May you be like an evergreen
That stands tall in sweet Autumn's gold.
Yet may your colours still be seen,
Verdant in splendour, rich and bold!
May all your seeds from which are born –
Your fruits, your saplings – All your kind,
Be pure, untainted, to adorn
This Earth with kindred of your mind.
May droughts, if any, leave your soil
Still fertile, rich, and far from dry!
And as you bloom, despite your toil,
Listen to breezes ... as they sigh....
Now, in the blooming of your Spring,
May you prepare for Summer's gold!
May that gold a grand Autumn bring
To leave you warm … for Winter's cold!
May you be conscious as you bloom,
And bring fruit to this bitter Earth,
That earth, someday, will be a tomb –
Then pain, regret ... will bear no worth.
You – Evergreen! – You bring delights,
And great joy, as my senses gaze
In Pride, with Love…. I pray your nights
Will bring calm comfort to your days.
Last updated June 10, 2014