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The Beautiful Boy
Dedicated to our Son Rawlins Glenn McCloy
I.
The beauty you lock up,
You should set it free.
Painfully formed pink petals,
Freed to the wind’s caress.
The miraculous beauty:
Wood bound, born, rooted;
The agony of stigmata
Locked in your delicate fists.
Don’t hide your wounds,
Open up your hands.
Let your mark be lit,
Let your flaming palms lead you.
II.
People pass you over.
Unadorned in flakey leaves,
You go all summer
Dressed in Aine’s floor scraps,
Standing near naked, unaware.
We must not see what we see,
For a beauty is locked inside,
A heart so truly tender
(Even the light hurts it at first).
Then fall strips you
Of your innocent freedom;
You hide shamefully.
Why--why did you believe the snakes?
Why didn’t we--couldn’t we--protect you from their poison?
An eternity of silent anger.
An eternity of silent hurt.
What’s the antidote?
Spindling, skeletal
You go all winter
Like broken spider legs.
Is that tree dying?
We ask
Should we cut it down?
No, we shouldn’t believe
What we see now;
The pale, scabbed surface
Conceals a miraculous courage,
A miraculous, beautiful courage.
He doesn’t believe in himself.
Belief is up to us.
IIII.
His beauty is so pure
Because it’s inexplicable
Like a fish,
Darkness born,
It suddenly appears in a light halo
Surfacing, disappearing
Forever suddenly
Until it returns on its own.
You might not ever see it
Right in front of you,
So small,
So intricate,
So unbeseeching.
IV.
A gentle as soul as him
Could only be God’s design;
Perhaps only his creator
Can understand his true beauty?
Spring finally arrives.
The twisted figure,
That seemed dying
Becomes a burst
Of beauty:
Free of shame! Free of death!
Beauty reborn.
Beauty eternal.
Thank God
For our beautiful boy.
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