This picture taken by my daughter days before Michael passed into
our eternal memories. On that day the heart of The Almighty broke! The skies opened and even Heaven
cried.
"Daddy I want to be a poet”
"Just a poet then?"
"Not
just a poet!"
"A Great POET!"
Softened
by times consummate plush,
How sleek the woe appears
That threatened childhoods citadel
And undermined the years
Bisected now by bleaker griefs,
We envy the despair
That devastated childhood's realm,
So easy to repair
Boy, you make the heart of a dreamer proclaim his/her dreams, don't you.
None of us want to be "Just a poet...". We all want to be a great poet. I would be a liar if I said I strived for less. I want my career summary to read: Great scientist, great business man, great lover, great friend, great philosopher, great poet. Who doesn't?!! Indeed, I am consumed by this. It is what drives me every day. I won't achieve all of these goals, I know. Who can? Only the very rare, but do I desire and dare to be the very rare? Yes I do. I have to try even though I know I will only make it so far, and that all the deeds that I may achieve are only transitory, the stuff on a hundred years if I'm lucky. So why the fuss? I don't really know. It is programed into me, I guess, but that is who I am, and that for which I strive. Always a work in progress, trying to be better, until the final end, of course. Where will I go? What will I achieve? "Just a poet..."? Not if I can help it!
A short poem. A powerful poem. Words of the human soul from one so young. We are programed to strive and dream. And we dare to want our dreams to come true. This is probably the greatest attribute of the human soul.
The good attitudes of a child like the desire to be the best, mostly disappears as the child grows... The dis-appoints, the steps to reach success tires him and he loses his faith on him. It takes lot of courage to accept failure and grow, salute to each courageous people who have achieved their dreams and desires....
We forget that there is a reason children are the way they are; sweet, hopeful, lovable, spoiled rotten, and ignorant. They rarely know anything besides the fact that angels have wings and people go to a better place when they die (mostly).
Yes, children are beautiful, and pillars for many empires.
But . . .
"Remember that the most beautiful things in the world are the most useless . . . "
John Ruskin
So is it better to adore the useless, and waste time dabbling in dreams that will die eventually, or to remember the true nature of the world we live in and work to do the best with that hideous monster?
The resilience of children is incredible. Their ability to adapt and spring back is a beautiful thing. We are only too fortunate if we are able to retain just a bit of that as we traverse this life that wears at us constantly in so many directions. Beautifully captured and written Tate.
Tate thru the eyes of a child all is simple, not complicated as we adults tend to make it and EVERYTHING is possible... That I learned from my children. That one lesson in life and by the grace of God is what has brought me this far... I believe a good poet is in touch with their very soul... A great poet touches the soul of others. This touched mine... Outstanding... Thank you for sharing with me...
![[send message]](http://www.writerscafe.org/images/mail.png){kind=small}
![[befriend]](http://www.writerscafe.org/images/friend.png){kind=small}
first
prev
Read Request
Review
My Library
