Poem (puzzle) for my sons

For My Sons

Poetry.

I love you all.

Love.

Force to be reckoned with.

Woman scorned tis nothing compared to a mother scared.

I fear.

A world without you in it.

Unimaginable, yet imagined in nightmares

Fear breeds insanity.

The cure, if one must.

Is the cure to most evil – absolute love.

Necessary but not necessarily sufficient, for fear is great.

And yet, can one add to love?

Would that not be like saying Infinity plus one?

Did you forget.

I am.

Not a scientist.

Yes, I taught you to have scientific minds.

Because it is important.

But the good doctor and I.

Theodor Geisel. 

Knew you needed whimsy as well.

If I had religion.

I’d of shared.

I’d have taught.

We can only give that which we possess.

Love, Joy, Wonderment.

And Faith.

Faith in you that is without limit.

Why can’t that faith have been congenital and dominate?

I’m not scientific; yet neither

[null]

I know.

I know exactly who and what you are.

You frequently see yourselves through a mirror darkly.

Mirrors, even magical ones.

Lie.

Carrol, he of the math and of the logic.

Believed the impossible things, oft before breakfast.

Six.

Or half dozen of the other.

Lewis Carrol, C. S. Lewis; two sides of coin?

Rosencrantz or Guildenstern?

That we have choices, you must admit is true.

That randomness strikes and chaos reigns, I must admit.

Yet rage against.

You have taught me fear, previously unknown.

You also taught me this.

Faith.

[void]

A ridiculous idea that is.

To imagine that our world could possibly be.

Without meaning.

[empty]

Without design or intention or binary forces, well perhaps.

But love, compassion, joy, and even pity.

For Minchin and Hitchens.

Smart men who scorn my compassion, resent my pity.

I scorn their Logic.

I scoff and dismiss.

Their decent yet misguided rationality.

You believe, as I have taught, in the brain.  

That miracle.

Which can conceive.

[Zero]

Not everything that counts can be counted.

You know this, you believe this, and yet.

Refusal.

Of the two truths I hold.

Is my belief for.

[naught]?

My absolute belief in my sons.

Their Souls?

You must admit that of all the ways.

To believe in a godlike concept.

Opposed to.

[emptiness]

That mine is as minimalist as can be.

Whilst still retaining that original spark of pure light.

Light, or love if you will, or even consciousness.

That separates us from flora and lesser fauna.

I am not trying to sell.

Any religion.

Just the truth that life is more than.

[Nil]

Not the devil.

Not the Holy Trinity.

Not the higher power, worshipped by agnostic drunks.

Just Love.

Or life, light, or laughter.

I have realized.

Hopefully, not too late.

Belief Matters.

You.

Matter.

Logic, reason; admirable yet seemingly leading to. 

[nothing]

I suspect our failure in spirituality.

Is also what causes that other downfall.

Failure to believe in yourselves as much as I.

Even though you have ample evidence in yourself.

My Soul.

Divided.

Into three, and yet.

Multiplied, made stronger ever as it became vulnerable.

[nix]

Yes, I know math doesn’t work that way.

Life does; believe, I implore you.

In something greater, and also.

Yourself

Zachary, Dalton, Lucas.

My loves.