future foretold

Letter To Neftali...My Son To Be

This letter is to Neftali, my son to be...
I've dreamed of you on various occasions,
held you in my arms, and watched you grow.
Your mother is still a mystery, in my dreams,
she has no face, and her scent is of rosaries;
like the kind at cemeteries, freshly picked. At
times I wonder if you're only a figment of my
imagination, and the longing to be a father
has created you in my dreams. Yet, I see you
like night and day, feel your flesh when I've
held you close. I can feel your heartbeat next
to mine. We will meet soon, but this letter I
won't read to you until you're old enough to
understand, I met you before your birth. In my
dreams, you've become a man, in which, your
appearance resembles mine; I know you're my
son too be...Neftali Ricardo Valencia! son of a
poet, with poetry running through your veins,
and grammar through your bones. Your the
miracle that I couldn't be, the hope that others
lost in me, and the patience that lacks in me.
Maybe you will be born in a Metropolitan city,
like the City of Angels, or Sin City...maybe your
birthplace will be somewhere in the cordilleras
of El Salvador, Central America...where your
grandparents are from. A single father, I will
probably be, since your mother is a ghost of a
memory I once knew...somewhere in this world.
One day you will ask me, why did I name you
Neftali; I will simply reply, "Neruda my son, Neruda."
the meaning you will know, and smile. I will die
before you marry Ana, a poetess herself; however,
I will die in peace, because my legacy shall continue
through the words of your poems, my son, Neftali.

I love you, can't wait to meet you,

Your Father, Sergio Valencia

Author's Notes/Comments: 

My Son to be...

View soulkritic's Full Portfolio