On The Wonder of Age

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

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While Wandering Many Years

I remember,

when as a child,

I noticed for the first time,

beauty,

the sort that remained with me,

for the rest of my life.

 

Oh it came in a smile,

a long and enduring hug,

a remark

a passerby whom might notice,

or help or assist, or wonder,

rather than showing

some practiced

ignorance.

 

For many years,

I’ve wandered through doors,

often wide open, without a need,

for a knock, or a password, or a latch key,

all evidence of the freedoms

I did feel as a child,

a young teenager,

an aspiring and hopeful

adult.

 

Along the way, I discovered,

race.

 

I remember the first time, well perhaps

there were many before,

a friend of mine,

in a fit of laughter, his own,

helped to shield my embarrassment,

we were talking iconic,

a Hollywood star,

I named the wrong person,

and he chuckled and said with clarity,

‘no the other black guy.’

 

See, I’ve now wandered for years,

found many stories,

heard a lot of different controversy,

created

of course a few of my own,

and in all that time,

I look around the room tonight,

and that oyster,

that metaphor,

that penchant for society to suggest

we all own ourselves …

that responsibility,

does let me breathe I suppose.

 

Yet I want a little bit more,

so in the years ahead,

perhaps a vocal sojourn

is merited,

to show the beauty and grace,

inherent in a wonder,

in the human condition,

in the freedom,

in some spiritual reckoning,

suggests,

we do, forever,

wander together.