Childhood Waits

When born as old

then aging young

Youth before us

with laughter sung

 

Each day better

than one before

Sick or senile

the past absorbs

 

Born decrepit

our weakness shows

A mother’s milk

of hope to grow

 

As childhood waits

the future plays

Where years befriend

—each passing day

 

(Septa R5: January, 2024)

 

 

Leave a comment