Firstborn

A father, his son, an eclipse

Firstborn

Tonight
the moon passes
into the shadow
of the earth.

You, my firstborn, sleep
while I attend
a fire that will die,
a moon that will darken.

In the distance
I hear the traffic
on the highway,
a perimeter of stars.

I cannot tell you
how each new thing
cradles me,
hushes and feeds me.

I am a waiting man.
(O God,
how my patience
stares back at me!)

Tomorrow I return,
a stranger to myself,
to your mother,
brothers, sisters.

But tonight
I watch you pass
from the shadow of your father
into a world more light.

You, my firstborn, sleep
as the fire passes into darkness,
and the moon escapes
the shadow of the earth.

And now I, too, will sleep,
man that I am--
father, lover, watcher
in the night.