Today is the birthday of an elder,
a daughter just lost her father,
a young boy,
playing in a culvert,
watching handmade wooden ships
float toward the sewer,
no judgment in mind,
simple childhood,
with an elder keeping his welfare
in mind.
We wonder sometime about the truth
in aging, the wisdom found,
the mistakes we wish to take bake
yet now we simply go on living
appreciating sometime
the turn of the coin
where once we believed this,
now we are forever asking for
sweet forgiveness
because with age
comes for some a sense of
quiet humility.
Oh do answer the question
that when under the knife
my body shut down
for modern medicine
did I go anywhere
with my dreams
beyond waking again,
seemingly fixed
yet forever drawn
to wondering just why.
The age of this my freedom
Will by my silent fiefdom
