A curious thing about names, 
how they are given
by parents who imagine
something from the past.

But the bearers of names grow 
and become the name.
the loved one, 
the youngest,
a young tree. (That
is true of all Benjamins).

But there was another Benjamin,
who tried to read all the signs,
all the languages, the objects
with stored memories,
the body with gestures, the
telling of stories. And a big question:
in our cities, where are the forests? 
Maybe the toys can tell us,
maybe the writing on sculptures,
maybe the streets as labyrinths. 
Maybe the doors and windows
will open back to the past 
and mirror the future.

And yet, and yet
our Benjamin (his own tall tree)
will tell his own stories,
will move through the streets,
his own actor, opening 
his own doors and windows,
creating his own living future.

How important that the name 
should not be dead
but living
and that it grows with the prayer
of those all around who admire the strength
of the bearer.

And, today, Ben is a man.                                                                   

Ioan Davies

3. iv.  1997

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