To Nathaniel Manoa Stokes

My little Nathaniel, I fear that as my days are but few,
You may never know this old man who once so dearly loved you.
You shall not recall the times we walked through the yard,
You reaching for leaves, holding them hard in your infant hands.
How we strolled up and down the street to distant lands,
though always in sight of home.
How we loved to pretend we roamed!
You and I would splash in the pool,
You were never afraid with me holding you.
As a photographer, all the images of you were mostly taken by me,
And yes, in many I hope that bond we had you can see.
I knew all the while time was short for my ole heart,
That is why it tore so deeply the selfishness to keep us apart.
So if you ever wonder where your urge to fly, or that imagination
unbounded arises,
Know it was nurtured very early by me as we watched the angels
parade across the evening skies
I could have been a really grand father to you
And it saddens me knowing how quickly in this life we are running through.
Someday long away yet tomorrow by the clock of eternity
You shall be standing beside the crib of your first grand
And when that old heart warms, you will fly back to our time
Though fleeting, and urgently understand....