The Old Man In the Mirror

He shocks me. Only a day or so ago I'm sure I didn't look like that. I try to part the few thin strands of hair up top, the patriarchs before me saw on their own sluggish heads not long ago--I was not so sure that I would always wish them peaceful rest; it wasn't my idea! But I have joined them now; this role of wisdom in a geezer doesn't always fit--and no one falls in love with old ideas when the new ones are in vogue. Respect and polity lacked the concern of youth that I knew 60 years ago. 'Twas ever thus? Perhaps. I never long for olden days. I would, however like to have us all just listen to each other, stow the fear and tempest in those heads that sleepily look back at us each morning, then forgive them, aged and young, of all our doubts, for hoary heads alone are not the arbiters of peace or joy. It is every mother's son indeed in saecula and saeculorum, say: Amen, again Amen. ~