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Poem

The gale of time has snapped the bonds
The generations don’t connect anymore
They grow as shadeless trees in isolation
And don’t make a cool garden anymore.
They are stories divided in incongruent chapters
But don’t make a readable book anymore.

I don’t understand your language of emotion
Nor do you mine
If my times could be nearer to yours
And yours to mine
We can bring the generations drifting apart
A bit closer
If we build a bridge together.

You can cross the bridge
And come in my heart to be in my times
The times when the values are still valued
Come to my home
The bare walls collapsing, the doors cracking
But it standing strong on foundation of faith
I’ll show you my garden
The flowers wilting desolate
But they preserve the fragrance of good old times
I’ll show you the faded picture of my little son
Walking by my side, holding my hand
He remembers no longer.

I can cross the bridge
And travel to your times you’re treading
You’ll show me your house
The walls decorated with abstract paintings
But the windows don’t open to the sky
You’ll show me the faraway garden
Where people throng to pluck odorless flowers
You’ll show me the picture of your little son in color
Holding your sleeve, looking away
Not knowing perhaps who you really are.

Let us build a bridge together
And on the bridge
I’ll take a step forward
You’ll take a step backward
I’ll hold your hand with love
And you’ll hold mine with care
We’ll let the generations relate.

______________________

September 26, 2021
Contest : Relationships
Sponsor : Robert James Liguori

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