Perhaps I'm Just Getting Old
These are a variety of thoughts that I put to rhyme as I was struck to do so through the years - some are from a boy in his teens, some from and man nearing 60 - are they all from the same person . . .
What happened to the boy I used to be - is he lost, is he dead?
Is he still a feeling in my heart or just a memory in my head?
If it's over here I am filled with fear,
But when it's over there how much I care?
If it's at my house I'll defend my spouse,
But when it's at your door what should I fight for?
We're compelled to fight for a man who's white,
But if the man is brown he's easy to turn down.
Can we say we are strong when we allow what is wrong?
It's not weak to fight for the things that are right.
What is it that you're screaming,
So constant and so loud;
And why am I all alone,
Why isn't there a crowd?
Are you calling to the others,
Or is it only me;
Are you telling me who I am,
Or who I ought to be?
Does this have to be a mystery,
Must we work for every clue;
Why can't you simply tell us,
What it is that we must do?
So we conjure up some answers,
But our answers gender strife;
For it's only as we surrender to your Spirit,
That we know why we've been given life.
A child dies of hunger because no one heeds her cries,
A neighborhood is blown to rubble then generals claim their prize.
Mommy makes daddy move out of the house when she no longer believes his lies,
Is man by nature good or bad? How can the question even arise?!
Record every word that is spoken,
Preserve each artifact and token;
Every challenge he faces,
This man will go places;
Never mind that every wheel has been broken.
Is believing in God a ridiculous thing?
Was it nature who taught the birds how to sing?
Would nature take time or have anything at stake,
To make a beautiful pattern for each and every snowflake?
And the greatest mystery if God is not there,
Is leaving the womb and breathing in air.
His day is filled with things that need done,
And when he's home he needs a drink;
Time to relax and be entertained,
But what about time to think?
Now that he's home she's got nothing to say,
But she hopes that the phone will ring;
She's got plenty to say about neighbors and friends,
But she doesn't have a song to sing.
If we do lots of things and have lots of stuff,
Then everyone thinks that we've won;
But only if we take time to think and to sing,
Can we say something worthwhile was done.
Let's figure it out, what's life all about?
If just one would know, we'd have something to show.
But the answer's not there, and since most just don't care,
We laugh and we cry, and we hope we don't die;
We focus our thought, on things we ought naught;
If our hair's not just right, we can't sleep at night,
We must have what's new, never seeking what is true;
We strive only for fun, from truth we must run.
We're alive for a season, there must be a reason,
So instead of just playing, why isn't everyone saying;
Let's figure it out, what's life all about?
I would not have a restless will, lunging to and fro;
Seeking for some great thing to do, or secret thing to know;
I would be loved like a child, and guided where I go.
One day long ago as I sat in the grass, not one moment lingered all had to pass.
And in my youth I wasn't aware, that someday soon I would ache to again be there.
When a moment passes we don't know it, but we'll remember each and become a poet.
All photos used in this hub are personal photos taken by myself or family or friends.
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