The Omnipotent Thief
Time is the universal thief,
So imperceptible his pace.
He steals my very youth and then
Leaves lines upon my face.
He saps the strength that he once gave,
He fogs the fertile brain,
That only withered sinew and
Dim memory remain.
He takes the sight from aging eyes
He once did freely give.
He takes it all 'til finally
He takes your will to live.
He steals 'til there is naught to steal,
Which seems to be his goal,
Then for his final plunder
He steals your very soul.
So youth, while time is giving these,
The things which I now lack,
Enjoy them, use them wisely,
Someday he'll take them back.
-Ron Langley
My grandpa was a quiet poet and a dreamer. He made the biggest difference in my life when he gave me the gift of seeing me and accepting me when it seemed no one else in my family could-at a time when I really needed it.
Arriving in Central California during the Dust Bowl days, he educated himself. School was not an option for long, but he didn't let that stop him from penning hundreds of amazing poems-his legacy in our family. He entertained me with folk songs and stories when I stayed over with he and my grandma. I think that what he'll be remembered for most is his cleverness with words and rhythm. He sang, danced, whistled and created a musical out of his life.
I'm honoring his crossover in my own quiet way, privately. Losing two patriarchs in eight months, I'm also pondering the release of some masculine aspects, and asking any overidentifications, stucknesses and old ways that wish to transform to speak up. The alchemy of loss and appreciation, grief and ceremony, love and the lifecycle, inspires me evermore to lift my own life up into the light... and let go.
