Resurrection in Tanka

After much too long,

Walking through that darkened door

Finding no sparkle

In his once so vibrant eyes

Flooded with regret and shame


Sitting at bedside

As he writhed in clear distress

A calming hand clasp

And an old familiar voice

Provided him an anchor


As the stories flow

Telling him what he once told

Fire rekindles

A spark returns to gray orbs

Picking up forgotten tales

Ageless Wisdom

An unlikely trio

Chatter in language all their own


To us older, wiser souls.

And yet the thought remains,

In whom is wisdom contained?

In them there is joy

Playful, exuberant, free,

And in us there is misery

Waiting on line, at the DMV.

From them, I take my cue;

No matter what the mission be

I can choose boredom’s due,

Or I can choose emotions free.