“You, who are on the road…”
Dateline: The Family Section
The measure of a man comes not from,
the bass raised on stage,
the trophies raised on stage.
The measure of a man comes from,
It is our children who are us, when us is no more. Children are the whole point of human beings. We are not a one and done species. It is a short generation when no young ’uns are born.
We are the past.
We are what was.
We are connect-the-dots, in socks.
Listen not to the so-called “Childhood Experts,” those in suits, those in white lab coats, those behind desks or next to couches, the bigger the words, the bigger the smoke.
Listen to Mother Earth.
The grand scheme of this planet comes down to just this,
when you pass through,
leave it better.
The future is always behind us.
The future lies crying in a crib.
The future begins with the words “Love” and “I Do” and comes in colors of pink and blue.
It is the future that will fix the mistakes of the present.
It is the future that will care for the present.
And while the confetti fell.
And while the claps and cheers filled the auditorium.
And while the present took to the stage,
next to me sat the future,
and the future,
made a prayer request,
“…must have a code…”