To you, beautiful manchild –
you, who sees the colors
of the souls around him.
You who senses the destiny
of the world beyond.
And you, who masters everything
he imagines;
Renaissance virtuoso,
conductor of art.
Quiet confidence in how you listen
to the rhythms of intangible energies.
You, with a child’s exuberant innocence
and the sageness of souls millenia old…
To you, who soothes all he touches,
You, full of tranquility and light.
You – so introspectively driven
you’re mistaken as shy!
Smiles that come slowly and impishly;
Eyes full of spirited intellect.
Look at you, how you’ve grown;
from boy to unfledged man –
You move with grace and love
and speak in warmth and gold.
Changing yet constant –
yearning for past’s comfort
while reaching for future’s terror
You, my son, my magical boy
full of color and gentle strength.
Kayfucius 