I am like a place in the wilderness.
Small plants may die and others may grow,
But there are still the rocks and the earth, which define me.
Finally, when the roots of the trees have claimed their soil,
And when the storm has done all it can,
I will have grown into something that few can change.
Until then, understand that I am still young.
Hurrah! I love a good poem that praises the glory of age and wisdom! Youth may be swayed with the winds, but maturity withstands the storm. :D ANYWAY, **********!
ReplyDelete--Dalu--
Interesting view of growing up. I might argue that there is always a chance for change in a person, but of course I do agree that change is easier when you're young.
ReplyDeleteAnyway, nicely done.
--James
James,
ReplyDeleteComing at it from that point of view, I couldn't agree more. There is ALWAYS a chance for change, however old ye may be. I know that first hand. ;) XD
--Dalu--
James,
ReplyDeleteExcellent point! I should have put something in about how even when we're older we can still kill the thick roots and move the heavy rocks or something like that.
Or no wait. I didn't even realized how definite I had put that; I don't think I meant to put it that way!
I'm going to edit that, actually. :D
Thanks for commenting and setting me straight! :D
-- Coyle