The Middle Road

THE MIDDLE ROAD

Boiling up

All around

Turmoil

Social destruction abound

Generations watch and see

As their progeny

Wade into

This darksome sea

Mankind struggles

To overcome

Each person deciding

What to become

To wallow

In the muck and mire

Following every whim, desire

Is the path so many tread

In so many ways

The walking dead

Yet this state

Is not for long

For each person

In time becomes strong

As my fathers hand

Slips from mine

And he fast approaches

The divine

I falter and take a breath

Not knowing what’s coming

In scope and breadth

As my child’s hand

Slips from mine

I stand fearful

For what’s in line

A world of tests

Become my child

In a world

Grown dangerous, wild

I watch both

Grow close and afar

Leaving upon me

A new found scar

I can only stand by

Watch and pray

For this is truly

Not my day

The lessons

I have learned

Within me

Indelibly burned

And dearly earned

Did I do my best

To pass on these lessons

And ease the tests

That to the youth

Must come

So that they may

Stronger become

As the old and new

Go their way

I am left ashore

As if after a storm

Longing for a place

Welcoming and warm

But for now

I stand alone

Upon the beach

Between land and shore

After much effort

Beaten and sore

But upon reflection

With a smile

My heart doth soar

-Shiidon, September 2010

I just spent this past weekend with my parents, daughter, brother and his fiance. I was struck at how I was in some ways in the middle of generations. My parents are both 82 this year. In another ten or twenty years they may not be with us as is the fate of all human beings. My daugher, who just turned 17, is embarking on her life. She is dong well and flourishing in my native state of New Mexico.

I think of my life and the influence of love and learning I have received from others. I recall certain people that stand out in the pantheon of my life's hero's. Among them are Mr. Hezari, Mr. Moshref, Mr. Justice, Mr. Gent, Mr. Jensen and on and on. the Zeus of this pantheon (work with me here) is my father. But so many of these souls are of advanced years or already in that place we are all destined to be. these are the hands that are slipping from mine.

For the other generation theres John, Travis, Jacob, Cody, Joseph (fellow Albuquerque person) and so many others that were just a brief time ago here with me. Chief among them are my children, Shervin, Winrik and Shahdi. Their hands have slipped from mine. I worry about all of them, hope for all of them and fear for all of them. Yet, in the end, they are those little birds that have just learned to fly and have left their nest.

I have much to reflect upon these days. I am beginning to see the horizon of new challenges to learn from in life.

The photos are my parents, Shahdi and I.