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Talk to Your Future

W. Dontā Andrews

It seems only right that I should start with you
who I have dreamed of all my life.
One, two, maybe even three, but hopefully two, one of each,
the major loves of my life.
And after my breath is taken away by your arrival,
I will get to work,
unleash the thirty-plus years of build up, the
thirty-plus years of anticipation, and of disgust with this society,
its unhinged, misguided, tumbling-down ability,
but unleash it only in love, monumental love, swaddle you in it,
and not with things.
Swaddle you with the unbreakable, unshakeable,
unassailable knowledge that you are the gift, you.
Clip your little nails, wipe your little butts, scrub your little bodies,
brush your little teeth, cook your little meals, and sharpen your little brains.
Sharpen. Your. Little. Brains.
Do this, all in anticipation of the days that will come,
days when I am no longer popular,
days when you will challenge me,
days when you will think you are equal to me, smarter than me,
days when I will probably want to knock your head off your shoulders,
but still, you will know that you are my gift,
my greatest-greatest gift.
And, while I hope I will make the list,
who or how you want to be when you grow up,
not the top, but on the list,
I just want to love you,
and love every minute of it.

Then there is you, appropriately placed in the middle,
tucked between the things I know will happen, can plan for.
And maybe the permanency on either side will somehow solidify you,
as I cannot plan for you,
cannot make you happen,
cannot create you when I think it is time,
do not know if I have met you or if you are in my future,
and with a full and complete life, I do not need you,
but oh, how I want.
Brown or green eyes, blue maybe, I am not picky,
as long as they make contact with mine.
A goal or two, a bit of intellect, and an interesting face.
A collection of smiles, with one or two just for me.
We will adore each other, and
feel near to bursting with the luck of it all.
Certainty and permanency will be embraced,
not treated like repellant.
We will meet goals, celebrate, fight battles, raise hell,
all together, while still existing solely.
We will buy an old silly house somewhere with four distinct seasons,
make it look like us.
Our fireplace will blaze thick logs in winter, while friends and family mingle.
We will plant silly flowers, walk our silly dogs, raise our silly children.
In autumn, I will bounce around in our silly kitchen,
and everything will smell like cinnamon and fruit and baked things.
Wrapped in sweaters and blankets on porches or decks,
fingers intertwined,
maybe wine for you and probably tea for me,
while leaves come down, and pumpkins on front steps smile and frown,
and we will talk, and talk, and talk.

And then of course there is you, last but not least, not least.
Even before I knew what you were, you were my favorite toy,
imagination, spiriting me off to other worlds,
saving me from the dreadful one,
the one I so desperately wanted, needed, to get away from.
Thank you.
Are you not as much a person to me as anyone?
You certainly have character, many in fact,
and I will continue
to create and present all that I see and feel and hear in this world,
this odd, but magnificent world which so confuses me.
Spin and weave you into a collection, a body,
and one day loiter at the shelves of some establishment,
dragging my finger tips lightly across your hardbacks and spines,
all of which will be tattooed with my name.
Inspire thoughts, touch lives, in those who view you.
Maybe the previously mentioned will, with pride, mention,
my father, grandfather, great-grandfather, wrote this.

Tall order, is it? Asking for much, am I?
Hoping? Pleading? Obsessing? No.
For it is not a declaration so much, but a conversation,
shameless in its intensity and its reality,
if only to keep the sanity, the clarity, of he who is conversing,
make certain that I know me,
so that I might know and affect you and you and you.
Because one day, after you search these words, swallow them,
awed by the love for you that existed before you did,
you will say,
wow, you wished for me.
And, remembering this day, I will say,
no, I only talked to you.

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