Unfolding Generations

I see them, these young ones,
Not all of my blood,
But all somehow mine,
Branded onto my soul.

They are laughter in another room,
Sprouting like spring’s first growth,
Eyes wide with wonder and questions,
Of unknown possibilities.

In them I see echoes;
Our youth, our hopes, our fears.
Yet they are not reflections,
But a bold, bright and beautiful legacy.

They grow, not just in stature,
But in spirit, in self, in strength,
In the way they look at the world;
In their curiosity.

These children of tomorrow,
Carry within them whispers,
Yet their paths are not haunted
By our shadowy soliloquies.

And as I grow more rooted,
They are branches, that reach and stretch
Towards what I barely perceive,
But in their grasping, there is everything.

In their laughter, their learning,
Their triumphs and their trials,
I see eternity,
And it is unyielding.

Leave your thought.