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