artistic_human_puzzleface
credits to the owner. poem dedicated to grandfathers

A Puzzle and The Old Man’s Cackle

By: Rachel Ann Biclar Pedroso
I’m staring in a puzzle.
I know what to  do,
Yet,
I stared again in riddles
because I don’t know
which way to go.
To leap the high hurdles
or stay safe and idle.
To mount the horse’s saddle
or fly with the eagle.
Either which I must gamble
for indecision is terrible.
So,
I challenged Fate for a battle.
In a bid to kill my pride:
a stagey display
to grow gaiety and kind.
Unlearn the anger.
Envy and lust
disremembered.
A distant whisper
from the idle days of summer,
“Love and live with laughter.
Dream. Believe. Explore.”,
an old man’s reminder.
Run and fall,
and tend to your wounded knees.
Smile and cry,
let go of your worries.
Today you are three.
Be careless!
Be carefree!
For when you’re thirty
You have to take care
of what’s foolish
to a child’s magical fair.
An eye for an eye
makes the sight blind.
Greed for power
poisons the mind.
Half open;
half shut.
I saw how money
corrupts from behind.
Wash those dirty hands,
water, soap and rub with sand.
Cleanse it til it bleeds.
Your blood,
your pure, animated blood
will drench the barren land.
Decode and choose.
Retreat.
It’s okay to ask.
Don’t bask.
Curious, aren’t we?
Fiddle.
Hurts the riddle
Sway but never bend.
Be firm and principled.
You could be blind,
but you can see
everything inside.
You could be deaf,
but you can hear
the faintest of whispers.
Fate offers his hand.
To me
To you
To shake
To break
To make
The puzzle.
I grabbed his hand.
Held it tight and noble.
Hopeful,
very much hopeful.
I choose to fly with the eagle.
Resilient,
sturdy and agile.
And from a distant memory of summer,
I heard the old man’s cackle.
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