When we face death,
we remember life.
When we are at
the end,
we remember
our beginnings.
There is nothing quite like
the smack of temporariness
our own frailty
to make us want
to revolt
as we age.
Do not age gracefully,
I say.
But with gusto.
There are those Children
who I have heard ask
"What is this Greatest Generation?"
And, "Is it not me?"
(Perhaps it will be, someday.)
Yet, they look at me and see
a barrier made up of my years.
We are Elders, my Children,
not out-of-mode gadgets!
Children who do not write cursive.
Children who do not go to libraries,
touch books,
instead, caress
Kindles.
I still have time to think old thoughts,
play board games, share stories
and ponder the riddles of humanity.
Hope is not quite yet the human tragedy.
Remove the ear buds, the ipod, the blue tooth
and look into the eyes of a stranger.
Find a friend who is not on facebook.
Don't live life on pause or fast forward
but live with what's
in front of you.
Yes, I challenge you to be one
of the next Greatest Generation. I do.
Expand the inner and the outer horizon
that is now,
right in front of you.
Copyright January 17, 2012 All Rights Reserved By Author
Melissa A Howells Meloo from her Tilt-a-World