As men and ages slowly fade to dust,
And worldly countenance succumbs to change;
In misbegotten youth lies future trust
While aged men oft watch in silent rage;
When grappling with the thought of where life’s bound;
Where lies the wisdom of our yesteryears;
Why should the pace of time our hope impound?
Or rapid change fill rigid mind with fear?
That wisdom comes with age is often told,
But with it come restricted vision too;
‘Tis youth that spawns tomorrows’ righteous old,
And in so doing, conflicts rise anew;
Thus through the course of time this story wends,
To but begin again before it ends.

© Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.