I Watch Him In My Dreams Poem by Leonard Dabydeen

I watch him in my dreams

(waking hours are sometimes dreams, too)

with endearment streaming

through my veins

and my blood feels cold

with trepidation

as I wonder what drama

is unfolding

in the silver city

of his mind

yesterday in history

his nuptial knot etched in ink

gratified his manhood

nurturing today

a frenzied hope

and a family more refreshing

like honey-dew

innocent of what tomorrow heralds

as he gestates in a wheel chair

with MS wriggling his toes

and youth imprisoned

without trial or tribulation

and in this ocean of grief

I cry without tears

longing for my son

to see this world

from dusk to dawn.