We look up to them,
Those silent and magnificent persons
Who filled in the holes we’d had.
Who would already have tamed the world as they knew.
Who, somehow within our subconscious thoughts took root and grew as a majestic oak, Who held us up.
And then in the daily hum realize that the talk of all that’s somehow important would fall silent with his steadfast glint, a reminder of his experience. And all I thought about was, what he thought.
So on I’d wonder about how he’d have made so much out of so little, for so long. How could I ever be like that? How could I ever be so strong?
He’s shown me that I can damn sure try.
