The Essence of all Things.

(A conversation between the man who had seen life and his granddaughter.)

‘If you do not listen to the greys of an old man, wisdom will not be your acquaintance he warned his precious granddaughter, still naive of the ways of the world. No man who truly travelled has completed his journey. Each day contains something new, something yet to be unravelled.’

 

You were born, just as the gardener of existence planted a seed

Deeply rooted in the depths of the earth, you needed water to grow,

And as you grew so did this tree and the fruit that began to bear from it

Bright in colour with a rare form of innocence, this tree radiated even in the darkest of your days

Like your childhood, this tree is only in it’s earliest phase, still growing, still learning the art of survival, even as the harsh conditions of your environment remain your rival

The Wind from the four corners of the Earth may travel to your very foundations, shaking violently at the core of the self

But if you remember how far your stem travels through the soil, and these words I give to you

Famine will never strike your land and cause days of grievance and toil

I’ve spoiled my days in search of the things I walked past every day, but you possess life, my granddaughter

Before you were born, I travelled so you won’t have to journey so far

My bones remain dense in stature for they were broken many times, my only evidence of the sins of many crimes

I dreamt and woke up to face a spiteful reality, only so you could dream and put your visions to actuality

You won’t have to walk the same path because my feet have grown weary

Long have I walked upon the face of this world, short-lived were the days where I failed

Bearer of your forefather’s light, although I lost my crown, you formed your own as your mother gave birth to another girl

See, the essence of all things lies in equilibrium, everything in moderation, time will never tell tales

Unless the Libra in you tips the scales so that life balances in your favour, despite the wrong doings of the world

Your father got it wrong, and as much as that sounds like the same old song I can only hope that these words fill the void that he left

You have a chance to make it right, your heart hasn’t hardened because your eyes have not seen much in your youth

And I’m not saying storms won’t come your way, I’m saying you’ll have to cling onto the umbrella of truth as tempting as succumbing to the rain could be

I won’t be here forever, but as long as you live, I’ll still linger in every thought pattern you perceive

And with every step that you take, as well as every mistake you make, understand that an action taken alongside wisdom can calm a raging sea.

 

‘If you do not listen to the greys of an old man, wisdom will not be your acquaintance he warned his precious granddaughter, still naive of the ways of the world. No man who truly travelled has completed his journey. Each day contains something new, something yet to be unravelled.’

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