Inka

Sometimes, you look at me
like you know what I’m talking about.

I read you poems and sing you songs
and tell you about the future.
Traveling, and learning about wolves, and pumpkins…
Being able to hold your head upright.

A need for real clothing without feet attached,
biology class and Chuck Berry.
All the foods you still haven’t even started to taste,
and all the potential energy we can muster.

Sometimes, you seem to smile.
But it could just be face practice.

When you do smile, or even scowl
or cry or whimper or cough or sneeze,
I laugh and hug you tighter than before.
I have to be careful of suffocation.

I can detect your voice amongst all the other
penguins in the great huddle.
Only your squawk creates such waves of joy
and wonder throughout my veins.

Sometimes, you do lots of different things.
Mostly though, you sleep, dreaming about
who knows what.
You look pristine, absolute, pure.

You hold within you World Peace which
will soon be ruined, or at least put away
into some deep dark place-
the drawer we all keep World Peace in once age sets in.

It’s been fifteen days exactly since I met you,
and already I can’t imagine this planet without your presence.
Your grey-brown eyes and gesticulations and
great warmth fuel my organs.

With the chemicals shared between us,
I invite you to stay as buoyant and unruffled
as you are now.
And with each passing day, know that your existence
creates in me balance, peace, and light.