The Calends
The aged pine for long-lost youth; Rebellious youth to age aspires; The grinning decades in between Turn upside down our vain desires. The ones we love fall one by one; One fall unmakes the summer’s joy. A child’s life recalled becomes An ancient child’s treasured toy. We wander unreal realms of night, Much realer than our nighted days. We seek a path that’s purpose-built, But purpose breaks his builded ways. The path we seek is always there, A wayward way the wayward scorn. Each winter dies for love of spring; Out of her womb each spring is born.
‘A wayward way the wayward scorn.’ Lovely paradox, Daniel
Daniel - another beautiful poem. Thank you. I love the themes - growing old, mourning a lost youth, and the hope of rebirth at the end. This has really hit home for me.