I missed most of my nephews’ young lives by
living too damn far away. But I’m back now.
I’d like to believe I’m in that bend of the arc
of returning—ah, Campbell’s Cosmic Dancer.
I’m aware that rings heroic while the truth
may be it was simply time to come home.
One thing I’ve noticed about my nephews is
their rush to hug me when I arrive and their
rush to hug me just before I leave, as if they
missed most of their odd uncle’s life and
are nervous he might up and fly the coop
again chasing the breaded crumbs of myth.
They’re still little boys in the ordinary world.
But soon they will begin their bend toward
becoming and while hugs may remain the
rush won’t be there, that happy spark that
melts their old uncle’s quiet western heart.
Rush or not, I’ll be here as the special world
cracks open and calls them. For I’m back now.