Small Bridge Over A Little Creek Poem by Uriah Hamilton

We enter the world with our parents being
Roughly twenty to thirty years older than us;
That distance of time at first seems
Like an unimaginable gulf of eternity
Through our first twenty years;
There is no concept that they are remotely like us
Facing the same difficulties and challenges;
They are simply older authoritarian figures,
Albeit kind and loving authoritarian figures.

Somewhere after our first twenty years
We begin to view them as human,
Maybe in a judgmental fashion,
Maybe in an understanding fashion;
Maybe we begin to even notice the similarity
Of physical features and personal characteristics
With which we share;
We may even seek their wisdom and guidance
In concerns of the heart like marriage
Or concerns of economical survival.

Then one day when we are approaching fifty,
They are now seventy or eighty and mostly likely
Securely in decline;
We ourselves have declined since days of youth
With issues of weight or graying hair or hair loss
And we realize now that the distance of time
That was once a gulf of eternity is now a small bridge
Over a little creek;
We can see in their suffering the journey
We will soon commence.

It is a journey of farewell to joy,
Gradual bidding adieu to activities and pleasures
That we are no longer capable of performing
Or for which we can no longer gain satisfaction;
Sporting activities will give way to walking
And walking will give way to sitting or resting;
Sexual appetite will cease to exist
Or at least to find meaningful expression,
But often we are given a strong solace
In enduring affections and gestures
Such as kissing and touching hands;
Even the joy of a meal begins to cease
In upset stomach or regurgitation
Or in some cases the complete inability to swallow.

All that is left is the extinguishing of light
To the earthling kingdom
And the entering into an unknown kingdom
That could be heaven or hell or reincarnation
Or simply becoming nutrients for the revitalization of the earth;
Wherever the next kingdom leads, we inevitably must go;
And everything in this kingdom that we cherish,
We have no choice but to relinquish.