The Word

I was there when he
Spoke his first words.
He slept in the room
Across the landing,
With his parents.
So the door to my bedroom
Was opposite.
And he liked to
Come in each morning
To see what I was doing —
Maybe to sit with me
And look at the photos
Flitting on my computer screen.

But on this morning
He was being led past my door
By his mum, holding his hand.
And as he was reluctantly passing
He called my name,
For the first time.
I can’t remember ever hearing
My name sounds like that.
It was thrilling to hear
His child voice.

It wasn’t just a sound,
Nor just my name,
But a call from his
Whole being to reach me.
It came out of his
Unbroken body.
No, more than that —
I experienced
The soul of his intent
Touching me.

Copyright ©2004 Tony Crisp