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
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