Condescension noted

Your condescension is noted;

duly recorded in my ever-widening margins,

along with your concern, and empathy

and ostentatious pastorality.

What I require (indeed need)

is acknowledgement and respect,

and an understanding that the road I took

is of some significance.

"Stop right now!", I hear the young ones cry.

"Information overload!"

"For God's sake, be your age,

and merge with dignity into your shadowlands!"

But this I assert

to all you denizens of whippersnapper-dom.

I still have things

to say and do.

I, who daily hoist

the load of four score years and more,

am happy to unload

some timely wisdom onto you.

I know about:

• ·         learning from experience;
• ·         understanding incarnated entropy and decay;
• ·         the value of undemonstrative devotion;
• ·         the price of honest talk;
• ·         the joy of stillness;
• ·         the love of words;
• ·         the need for silence;
• ·         the power of simplicity;
• ·         the consequence of war;
• ·         the fragility of peace;
• ·         the temptations of power;
• ·         the burden of constant pain;
• ·         really knowing oneself and knowing one's limits;
• ·         relating to mystery;
• ·         the illusions of false humility;
• ·         understanding both sides;
• ·         the elusiveness of love;
• ·         the futility of hate;
• ·         the need for recognition;
• ·         not overvaluing achievement;
• ·         making use of being useless;
• ·         forgiving one's enemies;
• ·         serving in little ways.

So, you who are still age-challenged

and crippled by inadequacies of youth,

note that I've been there, done that.

Raise your High Street lattés to me and my ilk,

and your fresh-pressed juice,

and nine-grain sourdoughs,

and hush your organic eco-talk,

and walk with us, and talk with us;

cry with us, fear with us,

laugh with us,

and share these lives

not yet complete....

© Karel Reus