If you are reading this
then I am an old man
and you are almost at the age I was
as I sat in a café on a hot winter’s day
in a city of angels
and I noticed
most of them have fallen…
how else could angels be living on earth?
There is not much wisdom I can impart on you
as I am still learning myself
and I wonder now if I will have gained any
upon this paper’s resurfacing from the ground.
I do, however, have plenty of words;
slowly trying to use them less, listen more.
People just want to be heard…
This writer, I admit, is a stranger to you.
Stay curious, though;
everyone in my life was unknown
until their purpose became clear.
I cannot tell you what the world is
both now or as I scribble away.
People do not make sense.
Nature does not make sense.
And the more sense you try to make of
anything else
I am sure you’ll discover that it only becomes more puzzling.
Do good
and you will never have to worry about
consequences
I sat down to write this after
a good walk, a good sermon and a good meal.
I have been meaning to put this together
for days and weeks
while you still were a tiny hope in many people’s lives.
Then, this morning
a pastor asked us to stand, united, for a fallen child.
He asked for a prayer of gratitude
for the life she was
for the faith she instilled after passing.
I sat in the back corner when I attended today
witnessing a collective energy of hundreds of strangers
rise and band together
for the simple purpose of love, grace and compassion.
Regardless of what happens to you, Baby Jon,
and wherever you are,
know that people really do care;
that whether you choose to tolerate them or not,
each and every one of us has a struggle
of some sort
in our lives.
You existed for a reason,
learning too young
all the secrets of life…
af
(written with pen on paper)
So, this one is really about a little hope that was almost born into an amazing family. The request was for a poem to be placed in a time capsule, but, sadly, the baby did not make it past a few weeks of pregnancy. So, here is the time capsule poem…