Oh to be young again,
To run barefoot through the woods,
hollows,
and glens.
To see Grandpa,
the old farm,
and my dog Peppie running in the wind.
Oh to be young again.
To walk the hardwood of Lincoln School,
take milk-money,
and search for steel pennies in the bin,
To play baseball,
marbles,
and Cowboys-n-Indians,
Oh to be young again.
To race the playground,
learn grammar and fractions,
and get lost in the wonder of a young girl’s grin,
To discover comics and novels,
read in the night,
and dream of being a hero of men.
Oh to be young again.
To look upon Creation,
think about God,
and become aware of something called sin.
To understand love,
sacrifice, forgiveness,
and thanks to the Lord salvation within.
Oh to be young again.
To be fueled by optimism,
invulnerable, invincible,
and take life as you must right on the chin.
To revisit Central School,
look for the names carved in the desk,
and recapture the hope of where we begin.
Oh to be young again.
To grow up fast in ways not our choosing,
watch the world change,
and find JFK, MLK, RFK no longer therein.
To endure Viet Nam, Watts, Kent State,
wrestle with racism, rebellion, hate,
and meanwhile youth comes to an end.
Oh to be young again.
To be young again is an old one’s fantasy,
repeat, redo,
and relive the uncertain.
To remember is a privilege,
amuse or bemuse,
and it dawns, after all, youth’s not such a bargain.
Oh to be content with the age that I’m in.
© Rex M. Rogers – All Rights Reserved, 2012
*This blog may be reproduced in whole or in part with a full attribution statement. Contact Rex or read more commentary on current issues and events at www.rexmrogers.com or follow him at www.twitter.com/RexMRogers.