Firstborn

Imagine the infant so fragile and small
who will he be when he’s grown up and tall?
well I’m laying odds; he will be his own man
so he will design his own master plan
tan and serene, with his own lovely queen
rides toward the sun in his own street machine

You are the infant; I am the one who waits
all of that – what never was
packed now in cardboard crates
till one fine morning I open my eyes
and your flawless face blocks out the sky
then open crates together - just cause for celebration
yes, I will wait forever to share in my creation

Whispers over the desert
across the fields of corn
till invading the very air you adorn
comes this love, sent to you, my firstborn
yeah, your father’s young but headstrong
strung headlong through time worn blue
and right now
I’m torn between the loving you
and the don’t-know-what-to-dos
but I will never lose!
the only thing I ever did

I’d proudly bid this world goodbye
flash straight across the starless sky
and never ever wonder why
it is that sometimes strong men cry

The crying helps to get us by
for future goals we’ll satisfy
my screaming senses numbly sigh
rewards will come to those who try



 from just west of the fault line
 (that’s cutting across my heart)
 Poway, California 
09/1980 & always