Looking back on the lives my grandparent’s generation lived in small farming villages where, though they were not farmers; their father had been.


Pondering

It was a slower time
Lives circumscribed
By time and duty
With hours of peace
Assigned as needful
By a knowing world
Pondering was valued
Perhaps because
Monastic contemplation
Occasioned by
The solitude of
Our rural roots
Was still exposed
Not as naivety but
Wholesomeness
Silent thought
Distilling over quiet
Discourse in gentle
Kindly prose not to
Change another but
One’s self



Poetry by josephus The PoetBay support member heart!
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Written on 2020-09-24 at 12:40

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Bibek The PoetBay support member heart!
There's still a wistful longing in my heart for that time, that "pondering." I'm particularly interested in the past and its nostalgia. Nicely written, Joe. :)
2020-09-24