He Loved Penguins

He never slept well
But he loved penguins
He lay awake at night
And thought about flightless birds on iceburgs
A row of stuffed tuxedos
Guarded his bed when he finally drifted off
Warm and safe, dreaming little boy dreams
Now he still lays awake
But he doesn’t imagine penguins anymore
He listens to angry noise
Blasting like dynamite into his psyche
Loud words insisting that life is
Darkness and hatred and violence
When he can’t sleep
He wanders, solitary and restless
Drifting off in the wee hours to wake again
Isolated and lonely, frustrated and annoyed
He seems so far away
From the little boy who knew everything
About Emperors and Kings and Fairies
Now intent on knowing everything
About smokes and beers and girls
The boy who loved penguins
Is somewhere in there
I want him to know that there is an easier way
That love is real
That everything passes in time
That he won’t feel this way forever
I want to hang onto him tightly
Pull him in close
Love him for the little boy he was
The curious one who loved penguins
Hope for the man he will become
The one who will again be open and curious
Who will know that life can be creation
Harmony and connection and joy
The one who will find peaceful sleep at last
And wake to teach his own little boys and mine
About penguins