Home > Lessons for the Modern Man, Men and Spirituality, Poems > MONDAY’S POEM: Echoes 1

MONDAY’S POEM: Echoes 1

My newest grandson, Tristan Wallace Bredeson, is here for a visit from California. He is just over three months old now, and beginning to show a delightful personality. He has been just about the most perfect baby I can imagine; he only fusses a little when he is hungry or needs a change! We are having a delightful time with him!

A new generation of Bredesons leads me to the poem today. I wrote it two years ago, but it seems to apply even more as the next generation, the next echo sounds forth. And with my son and grandson with me now, I do catch myself using expressions and words from my past, my parents. Are we learning lessons and moving on to new ones or are we just echoing within the chamber of time? Maybe the answer to this question is “yes”!

Echoes 1

Dad’s voice moved from
My ear to my throat
At breakfast. I heard
Him clearly: A non-sensical
Expression of his.

Mom’s voice jumped out of
My mouth with no thought
Or control behind it. It
Was clear, critical; some
Rule was broken.

Where is my voice? Has it
Been silenced by the tides
Of Time; lost in the returning
Ripples from the
Wall of Beyond?

Is the Wall of Time moving?
Is the sphere expanding?
The already learned lessons
Echo from the cold surface
Teaching, preaching.

Will we ever learn?

©2014 Richard W. Bredeson. All rights reserved.

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