The Web Poetry Corner - Monty Bing - Soliloquium et Solatium
Soliloquium et Solatium
Your hands are small and gentle still,
without the scars of adult life:
the ache of toil that nags your bones,
the ring of gold that tells your truth,
the lines and marks that tell your tales.
I'd say, 'Be wary what you hold'.
Your feet are small and barely formed;
without the knowledge of life's road,
for never yet have they been lost or,
wandered off the beaten track or,
finished first, or limped in last.
I'd warn, 'Be wary, no matter what the path'.
Your eyes are bright, but yet to see,
this beautiful and desperate place,
at times a fertile desolation,
at times, a trove, of treasure rare.
So many potential memories.
I'd ask, 'Be wary, and look for the joins'.
Your voice is small and whisperish,
without the cynic's hardened phrase or,
stories you can never tell or,
joy you hope will never end.
Or things you think you'll never say.
I'd offer, 'Say nought but what can stand repeating'.
Your mind is but an acorn still,
with space to grow, and heights to climb.
As yet uncluttered by debris,
as yet to know the weight of worry,
'though soon to know the power of dreams.
I'd say, 'Your thoughts define your soul'.
Your heart, 'though filling you with life,
has yet to play the first few bars,
of life's concerto for percussion.
A different rythym for each movement:
fear, hope, and sadness. Love, hate, elation.
I'd warn, 'Know well each movement before inviting someone to dance'.
Your courage is not with you yet,
but will be, in a few short years when,
an invitation to life's party,
will see you thrust before your peers.
I suppose it's always been this way.
I'd ask, 'Discard the baggage that you pick up there...before it weighs you down'.
Your future is still undecided.
These things I speak of; yet to pass.
For you are me, when I was but
a baby, in a photograph.
These words I offer to my childhood,
by way of pardon for life's sins,
'If I could take my time once more...
I'd offer, almost anything'.