Louis H. Strugatz
Tenuous though it be
Is still important to folks like me.
But only exists in memory.
Recall makes deep
What otherwise slides by.
Fulsome facts beyond recall
Come at last to nothing at all.
Memories make heavy what once was light.
Meaning comes fleeting when recall is slight.
The weight of the past; both good and ill
Informs the now and steels the will.
Regrets and triumphs flood our being
But all are us: they are our meaning.
A time of life when intelligence turns to wisdom and understanding replaces knowing.
A time when mysteries are revealed.
A time when the glare of day softens to beauty.
A time when reflections evoke memories.
A time when quiet displaces confusion.
A time when peace descends, precious because it will not last.
A premonition of the night, which will surely come.
A time when we wake… to dream.
Along an empty great expanse of lawn,
An inch of caterpillar hairy and brown,
Crept agonizingly slow and born
Not of the purple, but of the town
Seemed free to roam a world entire.
But how little avail this tiny thing,
Of what must seem to him a task
Too great for any to aspire.
But one fine day he will awake,
And find wings to aid his quest.
Where once millionaires trod,
He will survey the verdant crest.
A butterfly’s freedom to soar the land,
While leaving worlds to be desired,
Would seem a little less than grand,
But is enough for a butterfly … or a man.
About the Author
Louis is a retired orthodontist and have participated in GREAT BOOKS for over twenty-five
years. This organization is devoted to reading the classics which, of course,
includes poetry. It was originally started at the University of Chicago over
fifty years ago and was designed to supplement a college education. Mortimer
Adler, the founder, believed that the great books of the western world should
be familiar to every educated person. Since then it has expanded to include
the rest of the world as well as women and even books for children.
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