LULLABY FOR LUCIO

It has been a long walk,
a free fall with feathers,
landing on both feet
of infant uncertainties.

I would have lied if I'd
said this means nothing:
old procurements of an unbothered wisdom,
that I have early escaped from
as if a twinkle
or two.

Life's been long, I think,
and precious,
and haunted sometimes
by nothing more than our own souls.

Move forward, we've been told.
Be yourself, love thy self,
Love no matter.

I see your mom at a hospital bed,
feeding your will to live,
running hands gently through such diminute build.
You drink from her these fluids
to nurture further juvenile expectancies,
and this will be your first encounter with sex.

You might become like me, I think:
Trying to be simple
among the complicated,
Trying to be as simple as
A stone, a weak and forgotten piece
Of a stronger mountain,
prime of life, plainful and unheard
voices of pain.

No sadness to regret or rejoice.
You can move on with a simplistic answer
to all doubts within men:

You will not inherit
Mandaments of no Moses,
As life is choice
from an array of coincidences,
From the sperm that randomly engendered you
To the bacteria that will randomly
bring you down to ashes.