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.
~
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