Poetry

Newer Thoughts on Old Ideas 

By Bob Kocher

I sat with a gathering of men today and remembered reading poetry that spoke of boys and adolescents,  and older men. They spoke of nature, like a board meeting for the soul.  I remembered the first time I heard such talk as a young man in pursuit of dreams narrowly focused, which was my way at the time.
I thought the words too early to accept; as the spirit I pursued was the short-term benefit that too much beer and hope of a nightly change of sheets, not my own, seemed like winning the Super Bowl.
A blindfold had covered my adolescence.  The rights of passage so richly deserved and necessary needed to be returned by the thief that had stolen them before father time closed the door.  Or, until another round of life might be the only way.
One by one these great poets offered their highlights of self-awareness, gave each other richly deserved awards.  All members of the Academy applauded, and we went on our way until the next time.
And now as an older man, not wanting to miss anything, just like the before, nature gives permission to be young again.