This poem’s prompt was ‘wise’, and it got me thinking… What is the measure of wisdom? Is it something we all come to when we’re old, or something to do with wisdom teeth, or getting grey hair, or whatever?
To be completely honest, I think we’re all a bit wise in different aspects because of our experiences. But we don’t all have the same experiences, or at the same time, so it’s all a bit of a jumble really. I like the concept of reincarnation, and to be fair there’s a lot of weird and interesting stories out there about it, and that also makes me wonder if every life you have to experience different things to become wise, to understand things better, to grow as it were. Not that it’s not annoying, because honestly, who doesn’t like their comfort zone? But yes, it’s the way we become wise I suppose – through experience and learning and understanding. But also by talking to each other and realising we all have different experiences, and they are influenced also by the culture and societal rules around us. To become wise, perhaps we have to acknowledge that – and then realise what really matters.
I could write a whole piece on this subject, but I’m not going to. I’ll leave it at that for now – little snippets to get others thinking perhaps…
I hope you enjoy today’s poem.
The Echo of Wisdom
You know they told us,
When the wisdom teeth came through
That we’d finally be wise
Or was that just another childhood lie
Because surely to be wise
You need to live a whole life
Whether you’re 15 or 53
You could have lived a thousand days
Within a fraction of a moment
But isn’t it all relative?
This experience and understanding
Do we all learn the same lessons
But on a different timescale
Are we really living multiple lives
Dying over and over again?
So many questions whirling around
I wonder if to be wise you need to forget
Who are we beneath the layers
Of culture and society, rules and regulations
What is the measure of wisdom?
Does it come with age and time
Or was it there in the beginning
And we just let ourselves be won
By shiny toys and pride,
Meaning and emotion
Lost to the echo singing at the edge
Whispering for us to return
To hear the wise voice within.
Kate @ Kandid Chronicles x