Although father and son,
we are so different.
At the core of our souls
he is one, and I the other one.

We speak the same languages.
I have no ambitions,
but the intense desire to write.
He seldom reads my poems.

He is my beloved one.
We do not pray together.
We sit on opposite
ends of the garden.

In a every day acceptance
with tolerance in time
we perceive the same differently.
We are united by love

Hector Ahumada 2003, USA