to write

Dear Uncle

 

Dear Uncle,

You were my best friend,
We spoke about any topic,
But you held back somewhat.

Leaving me to learn by myself
What you frequently had
The means and free will to impart. 

Why didn’t you just tell me,
That where babies come from
Is where dead people go to.

I mean, parents form the body
Just as death steals it away,
But there is a place for souls.

And of the privilege to hear the life
Beating in words spoken,
That they begin to be when said.

How is it you never told me
The power that sounds hold,
Or of the spells words cast.

And that it is the randomness
Of our memories that matter,
As opposed to exactly what

Things and people seem
To be of such importance
In those forgotten moments.

How comes you never did
Share these secrets with me,
Leaving me to stumble on them.

Many processes would have been
So much less demanding,
But there’s turmoil in such ignorance.

Uncle it is not in anger
That I ask you these things
Now that we are both old men.

It’s just that I often wonder
On how very different, so much
Would have been by knowing.

Love always, Me

Ria 2016

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