oh youth,
I've grown older,
lines on my brow,
a prisoner of time,
I've lost the Now,
structured by externals,
a figure in the window,
a shadow on the wall,
an empty face at the shopping mall,
oh youth,
don't destroy,
but, rather, create
don't break down,
but, rather, rebuild
don't resign,
but, rather, engage
inject me...
infuse me...
energize me...
animate me...
help me remember...
the way that transcends all ways,
where what dies does not end,
for someday you too will be old,
but we will meet then,
and we will all be young again.
2 comments:
When did we fold up our youth?
This is my plan...so gotta follow through.
Philosophical prosody that makes me look forward, at the end of the cycle, to the shedding of the externals.
Nice nod to Rush embedded in there as well.
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