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Brick, upon another brick..




Men, believe in his youth. Life is his to take. Young men believe life is now, just borrow and steal everything you can. Tomorrow may not come. He learn one day. Better to celebrate each new day with gusto. You shall pay for every sin done one day.

If you live long enough. You learn we are just bricks, upon another brick. Learning, falling, rising and seeking some sort of salvation. We will be many people and we shall act many parts. If we are lucky, with old age, we gained wisdom.

I am 62 years old. I was a soldier, I was a business man making money for big companies and a writer to some. I was a lover, I was a drinker, I was a hell-raiser, I was a father and now I am a grandfather.

Life goes so damn fast and I lost more than I gained. Two brothers killed themselves and I tossed away organized life. I learn too late, I was a slave to rich men. I volunteered for war and I saw great bloodshed, I saw starvation in  Africa and buried Iraqi soldiers at Death Valley.

I was blessed with food, water and medicine missions in Africa, I learn my life wasn't so hard. I learn kindness is needed in our world. Better to give, than take.

I did medico missions in Honduras and I met angels. Kind and beautiful nuns assisting people deep in the Honduras mountains. The nuns were sweet to me. Held my hands and they told me. Johnnie, yesterday is gone. Do some good before you can't. Better to know concern, love and kindness. Make the heart shine so bright.

I learn more good people than bad people in our world. I got lucky and I found a kind woman who loved me and we raised-up four children. Wasn't a easy life, but it was a good life.

Now I am the grandfather, less work, beach days and park days for the grandchildren. Once angry man became a safe haven for his children, friends and his grandchildren.

My gift of wisdom is simple. Brick upon brick we grow. Better to be a house based on love. Do something daily you enjoy and have the family near. Be brave and laugh at life hard days. Always go forward.

Dancing Coyote
© 2020 Coyote Poetry
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