His Creations

It’s a good thing

That he’s standing there

With his back to the world

For try as one might

One simply cannot bring

To life, the love behind that stare

As he gazed up at them

Stories upon stories

Bricks, concrete, steel and glass

His greatest creations.

In his eyes shone the reflection

Of a child, insisting

On using the same set of Lego over and over

Building and rebuilding

Limiting his art to the constraint of those numbers

For defiantly he’d refused the endless supply

Of virtual bricks, of simulators

Just so he could carry them around the house

Holding them close to his heart

Its beats vibrating their upper storeys

His creations.

Through dreams, of night and day

He tried to see them in their full glory

Spending ages staring at his models

And no less at pictures

Of the real things, spread across the world

Desperately hoping his brain

Somehow

Would put the two together

Somehow

And in his sleep let him visit

His true creations.

Of all these years the child’s eyes now shine

As they behold the wonders

Jutting thousands of feet into the sky

The magical sky, purple, cloudy,

Fulfilling their purpose

Scraping

Intimidating, yet comforting

Tough, yet protective

Making the child feel secure

Making him feel he belongs

Surrounded by what once were descriptions

Now brought to life

His creations.

And I

Wearing this picture with pride

Embrace that child within me

And become one; never to part.