A Poem I Wrote On My ...
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--Jon Madian
2 minute read
Apr 10, 2013

 

A poem I wrote on my birthday ...

You come to me across the grass
my 7 year old grandson on
the morning of the dawning of my 72nd year
your weeding tools in hand
you ask, grandpa, is it time to do garden work  

I follow you to the weeds grandma
has assigned us, 
weeds that we must beat, tear and coax
from the soil, but in the end
being men, we will merely cut them
back to imagine we will clear them
once again when next they attack  

with mighty strokes you build
paths around the rhododendrons
while I work closer to the old
trunks that the turning seasons
have shaped   

seems the melody of time
that changes seasons
and tunes the buds to blossoms
also wrinkles my skin
droops my eyelids
and sends winter certain as
an archer's arrow to bend
my knees  

but your earnestness
and quick laughter reminds
that life is forever
a child's happy answer
and wrinkles can be taught to say
our lives are best lived
as child's play  

So let us blaze playful trails to 
heroism, discovery, and beauty
until we still both will and breath
in deference for all that has made 
and sustained us 
for all those who have loved us
and who we love  

blessed reverence
for the wind
that lifts light into life
and life into light
that we might know
ourselves and simply cherish 
one another
   

 

Posted by Jon Madian on Apr 10, 2013


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