Ageless, by Ken Gierke
I hold a voice, sometimes
feel it slip between my fingers.
Grasp a little tighter. Not so tight
as to startle it or send it fleeting.
Just enough to let it know
I remember, understand
its time is not limited to my past,
its confusion a sign I have more to learn.
Its wonder reminding me to be open
to possibilities, that even decay
and loss can lead to growth.
I hold that voice to my ear,
beginnings never really end.
Ken Gierke started writing poetry in his forties, but found new focus when he retired. It also gave him new perspectives, which come out in his poetry, primarily in free verse and haiku.He has been published at The Ekphrastic Review, Vita Brevis, Tuck Magazine, and Eunoia Review. His website: https://rivrvlogr.wordpress.com/
3/6/2019 06:45:44 pm
Wisdom unfurls in verse like swirls in the image - the small voice deep center spreading outward, growing in appreciation of confusion and wonder as evidence of further growth yet to come. Beautiful!
3/7/2019 02:59:33 pm
Thank you. Each new day a lesson, an opportunity to broaden experience.
3/7/2019 03:56:39 pm
Nice lines: "its time is not limited to my past,
3/7/2019 04:03:59 pm
Thank you. We are (or should be) always learning.
3/8/2019 09:04:16 am
Thank you. It's almost as if the painting is willing us to discover what it holds.
3/7/2019 04:12:35 pm
Bang on, sir. I subscribe to the Zen notion that we spend each lifetime in lesson, and I agree that spirit is never quenches or ended, it just keeps transitioning, Death is one of those transitions.
3/8/2019 09:02:35 am
Thank you. Life is, after all, transition.
3/8/2019 09:00:24 am
Thank you. We weigh what we know, assessing it each time we consider it, making the past just as fluid as the present, in some regards.
3/11/2019 06:13:57 pm
Exsquisite, Ken! Congratulations!
3/13/2019 09:05:17 am
Thank you, sir.
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