'Year end love' timothy r gates, 12/31/2012

yes, my eyes well up
soul as a four year old,
at least in my heart's eye:
i love Santa
love Mommy and Daddy
my favorite Uncle, Aunt too
(My Daddy's Dad died -
walked into his apt with Mommy
picking up weekly laundry -
Mommy said, "don't need to do
Grandpa's dirty clothes today -
Angels will do it for him." -
i was four, and i needed
to know that he'd have clean clothes)
i love Grandma and everyone
love sunshine, rain
laughing with my three year old Sister
still could see
angels, fairies
didn't see skin colours as races
played with other children,
girls and boys
an Indian and Coloured boy too
(that's what I was told then -
they were merely my friends, then)
love playing my Daddy's Gibson
sitting on his lap,
while he'd sing Hank Sr. songs
love my Dad's youngest brother -
sitting at the dinning table
my Mother tutoring him in trigonometry,
readying him for OSU
(he was buried in a closed casket,
Mother and Dad whispered,
"Too bad he thought he had to die
just because he preferred loving men.")
still could see angels and fairies,
no one had taken Santa away
i love God,
no one told me that it was
only my imagination
when i'd tell them
"i see God, talked with Grandpa,
walked with spirits"
everyone would simply say,
"That's nice, you're so cute."
what they didn't know,
i was four
i see without lenses
i behold
"And we strolled in the cool of the morning,
feeling the dew between our toes
on the Garden's floor..."