Youth looked at me tonight, in a crowded bar, and smirked. 


Youth was all cocksure in its arrogance, its “knowing”, its potential. Youth
thought it was better than I.



I smiled back. Wisdom has its perks.


Youth, loud and boisterous, bold and ignorant, still embraced “the myth”,
the illusion, I thought to myself. Youth still embraced that which I had
relinquished long ago.



They say the Elders have “baggage”. Youth carries much baggage, too.


Youth is saddled by all that it has not yet experienced, nor lived, nor truly
felt. Youth is handicapped by its unknowing, its inexperience.
Youth is starved by its insatiable wanting.



I went to bed sorrowful, but I could not sleep.
I took a lone, solitary walk to
the nearby river, sat on its banks, listened to the soothing rhythms of the
flowing current. In darkness, I contemplated the stars above, heard the
wisdom of the ages on the gentle wind.



I heard the stirring of leaves, the soft, joyous songs of birds awakening in
the trees. I looked upon the distant horizon and saw a familiar brightness,
the rising of a new day’s sun. 


Her light slowly evaporated the shadows of discontent. Her promise filled me
with an abundance of joy. Her arrival in the early morning sky began to
illuminate all that was around me, reminding me of all that could be. 


I reached for Her hand and felt Her warm embrace. 


“Good morning my dear”, She replied, lovingly, as tears began to flow.

“Welcome back my love,” I humbly replied, as She gently dried them away.
Youth welcomed me once more. And I, Her…