As most of you have learned, I am Verbal Remedy's birth mother. We have both written of our individual journeys in that realm earlier, in my five-installment series, "Prelude to VR," and her, "Tale of Two Mothers." (all still posted, should you be inclined)

I am now so equally honored to introduce you to her half-brothers, my three sons. (seems somebody named a T.V. series … well, I digress)

My sons, Matthew, born 1974, Adam, born 1977 and Ryan, born 1980 are musicians all and extraordinarily decent, honorable, fine men overall.

This photo taken in 1996 is the only one in existence of the four of us together:

As evidenced by:

Mom, VR & Mothership

And:

                                Matthew (8)                  Ryan (2)                 Adam (5)

         Matthew: married                 Ryan: married                      Adam: single

                   2 sons -                       no progeny, as yet           Waiting for Ms. Right

       Gabriel (4) & Noah (3)

 I wrote a mother’s poem for each in 1996. Life moves forward and circumstances change, but essences of character remain.   I am now honored to introduce you to:

unexpectedly

a  disembodied  voice

evoking  memories

of

unnatural  rending

from  a

devastating  long—ago

coupled  with

possibilities  of  unhoped-for

tomorrows

one’s  entire  lifetime

re-lived  disclosed

inter-woven

into

the  tapestry  of  the  other

cadence  gestures  expressions

reflected  and  absorbed

replenish

an  ever-present

yet

unacknowledged

void

the  tentative  dance  now  begins

inquiries

responses to

could  have  beens

might  have  beens

never  weres

what  was

what  is

what  may  bes

once  out  of  sync

with  practiced

choreography

finding  our  timing

we  tap  in  euphoric  challenge

harboring  artistry

as  a  smoldering  ember

awaiting  combustion

not  as  a  flash – fire

destruction  its  wake

consuming  even  itself

in  its  ferocity

but  rather

patiently  kindled

into  a  sustained  bright  hearth

projecting  illumination

providing  warmth  and  comfort

enhancing  life

a  nucleus  of  celebration

and  quiet  reflection

the  gift

cherished  as  intrinsic

not  peripheral

unextinguished

by  dismissal

of  those

with  lesser  heart

and  vision

who  take  refuge

in  familiar

dark

corners

as  with  most

who  propel  us

beyond

the  mundane

the  status – quo

his  vision 

apparently 

devalued 

and 

discounted

but  not  by  all

and

only  until  now

sparing  self

the  inevitable

if  onlys

Intuitive, compassionate, logical, loyal,

possessed  of  a  gentleness 

of  spirit

and  clarity  of  vision,

a  look,

a  word,

a  touch,

a  lyric,

a  laugh,

a  shoulder,

a  heart,

a  friend.

Seeking  the  positive,

refusing  to  contribute  to  the  bedlam,

striving  toward  serene  resolution,

finding  the  lesson  in  the  moment.

Displaced,  by  accident  of  birth,

one  generation  removed

from  affinity  to  a  credo.

Understanding  that

normal  and  healthy

are  not  synonymous

as  contemporary  concepts.

Would  that  he

align  with  other  renaissance  men

to  stop

the  madness,

the  dumbing  of  America,

destruction,  desperation,

de – humanization,

the

crush  the  so – called  competition,

destroy  inferiors,

everyone  as  adversary,

pray  to  the  gods  of  wall  street,

if  it  feels  good,

take  care  of  number  one,

insanity,

and  begin

the  revitalization

of  constructive  values

offer  hope

child  of  destiny

desperately  dissecting  each  day

experience  by  experience

ignoring  nothing

finding  wonder  in

the

apparently  mundane

joyous

curious

provocative

precocious

sagacity  his  constant  companion

approaching  life

as  a

challenging  puzzle

the  ultimate  game

refusing  to  be  bound

by  limitations

set  by  those

ruled  by  safety  of  convention

fear  for  him  only  his  lack  of  fear

in  his  first  decade

when  asked

( after  fracturing  his  wrist  for  the  third  time )

“ now  will  you  keep  your  feet  on  the  ground? ”

replied  nonchalantly

“ sure  Mom  until  it  looks  like  fun 

to  jump  again “

willing  risk  for  the  sake  of  exploration

a  possible  future  gallelio  marconi   schweitzer  or  gates

dismissing  prophesies  of  doom

embracing  his own  being

enthusiastic  and  eager  for  its  mysteries

may  fate  grant  this  extraordinary  spirit

another  hundred  years

to  relish  exquisite  existence

and  brighten  that  of  contemporaries