I stood on the edge of the universe
stars within my grasp
reach for them I did
I never thought to ask
nudging my fingertips
a velvety lamb’s ear
in an old forgotten grotto
nature knows she is here
In the expanse of a gallery
the paint is still fresh
though the paintings are old
where I had my first test
hand-picked stone lined path
each flower has a name
crunch of gravel so familiar
tho I am no longer the same
This place harkens to her footsteps
welcomes me anew
tho time has passed
memories like morning dew
I was taught from before I was able to talk the value of the elderly, the importance of honor, and the lessons I could learn if I listened closely. I am sad for a generation that places so little value for those past a certain age. Because of this attitude, there are lessons unlearned/ history unheard.
There is more reality than metaphor in this poem and a gratitude beyond expression that I hold for those who taught me to reach for the stars.
I’m also sharing a link to rewrite of a fictionalized story of an elderly patient – here
penned in moon dust 