cronechronicler

Exploring the poetry of everyday life

Post Graduate Learning

Formerly I learned a lot
Traveling my wisest teacher
Newer lessons bid me stay
Listen to my changing body
Adventure seemed activity
Ready for the rubbish pile
Until on stage appeared two grandsons

Brothers with licenses to drive
Full of who they plan to be
What journeys focused in their sights
Which college lessons are required
Still loving Grandma Ina
Last week extended invitations
Offered me new inspiration

First the eldest set a date
Asked my advice where we should lunch
Entered address in GPA and off we went
But not by any route I knew
Arrived at restaurant in same chain
(I didn’t know there was a chain)
My grandson turned my old to new

His brother next made plans with me
Knocked on door at time we set
Walked right in with plastic bag
Filled with ingredients to cook
Eggs Benedict tradition shared
Between us two before
He even washed the dishes

Reminded me of new and old
Ever present combination
Creating new originals
Gumbo promise for future-time
Seasoned with love and memory
Dreams and hope for generations
And altogether possible

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Legacies Passed Upward

Once upon a time I was mother of three sons
Fathers now who between them have four more
And two young daughters.
I never gave a thought to reaping
After youthful sowing bore its fruits.
Grandmothers receive gifts
Bounty never dreamed of.

One son recently shared the story
How heĀ  taught his son to shave.
Another son passed on the news
Son’s camp counselor summer job
Included learning leadership
Sharp skills to serve him well
In the wider world one day.

Two younger sons, cousins
Surprise us all with expertise
Creative eyes see like engineers.
Another son, the one who shaves
Is showing signs as a musician
Following his father’s dreams.
The little girls still lovely mysteries.

Mothers blessed become grandmothers.
A further generation bearing treasures
Returns its priceless gifts to me.
I watch my sons now fathers
Shape their children lovingly
Guiding them into a future
Unrevealed but which offers hope.

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Haiku: A Different Tune

Once upon a time
Rhythmic rocking chairs on porch
Uncles, aunts spun tales.

Now new harmonies
Ear buds create inner beat
Grandkids deaf to past?

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