Chameleon

Being a cherished father
has given me the power to transform
into whatever I please
to fulfill the needs of my son:

In the cold winter his coat I become,
the invading sand of his pores in summer,
the dying leaf he vivifies in fall,
the spring petal he plucks as he hummers.

I turn into an enthusiast teacher,
to teach my preferred schoolchild,
floating in each syllable he preaches,
and sailing over the curves of his smile.

I assume the shape of an index finger
that he holds to his hand confidently,
when his legs intentionally stagger
and threaten to make him tumble noisily.

I am a painkiller,
which keeps his illness at bay.
Acting as a loving and caring doctor
who yearns him to be safe.

I mutate into a penetrating song in his ears,
allowing his eardrums to happily vibrate,
making him wonder throughout the years
about the reasons to believe and celebrate.

Thus, I trespass the property of time
for I am his future, present and past.
I have the gift to contemplate his whole life,
the existence that goes by incredibly fast!