unborn baby
I yearned for you in my empty belly
like someone hiding his tears in a pillow
I blended the bitter yeast of life with tender wheat sap
to make you grow proud and strong
to be born in a cypress shade

my child
I swayed you on my arms like a rising sun
ending with burnt shoulders in a ragged cloth
I slept with my temple over flint stones
sipped water from summer tempests
fed on wild blackberry
in order to raise you

I baptized you with an old name
in the spring water under a cross
I wiped your front with untouched grasses
bringing you up to the sky on my palms
and cleansed back to my chest

my son
I promise you that you shall have the fast horse fed on embers
that the red and the green kings shall make peace
that forests shall grow bigger and golden fields taller
as far as you’ll remember me
under your feet