With young souls troubled,
old souls feel
the approach of winter;
we clean the sidewalks,
repair parts and pieces
but reports darken
what remains of the light.
The larder is thin,
rains are heavy
yet despite the weight
we take our young
to the edge of morning,
and look to the east,
an old habit,
foolish perhaps,
still we nurture
while we can the seeds
of their innocence.
A good reminder of the importance of living in the moment.
Beautiful
So powerful, Don. I read it to myself…then to John. Thank you.
What you say is true. I am now 80.. “taking the young to the edge of morning”… beautifully put… tomorrow never comes… we are only here today… and the dawn is breaking.
Your poem speaks to me of origins – the original “template” of innocence and oneness with all. Youth is prone to become caught up in diversity and “self-assertion, which shatters unity,” to borrow a phrase from Cynthia Bourgeault’s book “The Meaning of Mary Magdalene.” While “old souls,” looking back to days of original innocence, counsel young souls to pause and remember. “Remember now thy Creator, in the days of thy youth, while the evil days come not, nor the years draw nigh, when thou shalt say I have no pleasure in them. While the sun, or the light, or the moon, or the stars, be not darkened, nor the clouds return after the rain.” Perhaps the larder, the pantry of nourishing words, is thin as we search for what wisdom we might yet impart to ears that have turned away from the elders, that listen to another drummer perhaps foreign to old souls’ ears. I look toward the east with hope that it will bring an awakening, perhaps new old souls to embody the present moment and create a new earth. And I will go on nourishing the seeds of innocence, only in the quiet heart where love can easily surround and protect young souls. Love is the only nourishment they will receive where words fall to the ground. Your poem in a seed itself for deep meditation. Thank you, profound poet.
Oh yes, may it be so that we have the heart muscle to point to the light for those coming forward toward their eventual elderhood, and also to wend towards light for that bare tender hope within ourselves.
The light penetrates through cracks, folds and even closed doors. We must let it do its work. Thank you, Don, for such a beautiful testament to the innocent.
This is so beautiful and knowing some of how you’ve lived your life, it holds such depth and compassion. Real men bare their hearts, as you do in your poetry. Thank you for sharing this work.
Thank you, Don. In a few minutes an international meditation event will begin, my Light shining on the Way, not in anyone’s face of inquisitiveness, quiet of mind, Fire roaring in heart!
Nurturing the seeds of their innocence is essential lest the world wrest them away.
You name it well here Don. The old souls know to continue blessing the young ones so they too learn how to see the sun on the other side of the storms.
I can say nothing more than to echo Tony’s words of wisdom. I did a lot of that but found it was not enough, not to be one of the many, sold out. Thus, must add forgiveness, “for they know not what they do.”
This is cool. To me it sounds like a scene from a post-apocalyptic movie like The Road; you know, we’ve bombed ourselves back to the Stone Age and done the best we can but now it’s up to the next gen to eke out whatever Brave New World might be left to humanity.
Created in this moment, innocent, only existing here and now, aged not. It is as it was in the beginning and now and ever shall be. And yet, this is a rare moment in a consciousness often besotted with past and future, full of regrets and fears. Now, to nurture the seeds of innocence, welcome its presence and hope to comfort the young.
Thanks, Don. Another fine job.
Yes!