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TOAY
THE LAW CALLS YOU A MAN
You are earth made fertile with seed,
with vigor blazing in your depths,
vibrant youth that seeks and feels
the sublime destiny of souls.
You are an oak growing straight toward the sky
with branches reaching toward the blue;
your roots run deep beneath the ground
and your sap is a river of unrest.
You are a cresting wave upon an uncertain sea
with the intact and fertile germ within;
in tides of foam you journey toward the harbor
of peace and goodness, inexorably.
You are the moon in a transparent night
with your face illumined by the sun;
a lighthouse shining in the darkness, radiant,
kindled in the bonfire of love.
You are air filling every space,
with invisible force the wind blows through you,
sweeping along reluctant skeptics
and expressing the truth of the eternal creed.
You are a flower in the garden of a mad dream
with petals breathing purity;
a brushstroke of light, a little lily
within a delicate watercolor landscape.
You are a spring flowing crystal-clear
with a message of sowing in the desert,
a swift silver current on pilgrimage
toward the delta of calm and serenity.
You are a dove in flight toward infinity
with wings of renewing ideals;
following the trace of your blessed guardian,
you lift your sensitive heart.
You are laughter in radiant symphony
with resonant arpeggios of hope,
a bell tower of grace and harmony
for the bronze peal of prayers.
You are the innocent kiss of childhood
with the fragrance of mystical candor,
that kiss which shortens the distance
separating humanity from God.
You are the pure image of what is authentic,
with your hand extended toward your brother
you wish to change a grotesque world
and you give yourself joyfully, passionately.
You are steadfast talent rising over chaos
with natural truth pushed aside,
a phantom captain of great ships
steering toward the shores of longing.
You are an idea free of chains,
with the creative genius of new worlds;
you shatter stale concepts and ancient sorrows,
the ballast of enslaved and silent man.
You are a soul crying out the unheard
with an absolute immortal spirit;
you abandon what is agonizing and withered,
you strive toward a future reality.
You are a voice incarnated in the firmament
with language laden with meaning,
filigree, subtle enchantment,
a magnificent spell of syllables.
You are the youth that rises and struggles
with the animal compost of ancient challenges;
within your budding growth Infinity is heard,
and your fruit shall become a chosen feast.
Today the Law calls you a man — I do not affirm it.
With only as many years as the stanzas
of this loving poem I write for you,
you are still a child evolving into manhood.
You shall be a man, my son, if you pursue,
with the essence of God you carry within,
the fulfillment of your noble mission, and if at last,
though becoming great, you learn to remain humble.
Emma-Margarita
R. A.-Valdés
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Vekas Rodica
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