Wisdom Over Time

By Andrew R. Duckworth

You’ll never be a wise one
At day one.
Don’t form a highbrow
When you can’t see.
I loved my parents,
And then I hated them,
And now I love them.
We spend our youth dependent,
But hellbent on getting loose,
On untying the ropes
And we begin resenting those
Who keep us close
Because they know
That there is more to learn.
And, the moment the rope is loose,
We run like the toddler
We were once
Until we hit
The nearest obstacle,
Blowing us down, down to earth
Where we had built a ship of escape
With little fuel.
But the astronaut knows
When it’s time to come home.
Occasionally, it takes foregoing
The wisdom that would be easy
Had we listened with wide ears,
In order for life to deliver
The wisdom with a welp
On the cranium.
But, when we realize
That a parent’s eyes
Were watching with concern,
When we realize
That wisdom was within our reach,
We turn back to those who knew best,
To those that tried to speak
When our ears were closed,
Those who waited with open arms
For our return,
A father embracing the wayward son,
A mother realizing the storm is done.
And while storm clouds still loom,
Wisdom that has come will bring 
Us through the day.