There's gold among the silver that is tarnished and whose luster is
fading from the lack of light and care and love...

Set aside like old forgotten books placed high upon a shelf, out of
sight and out of reach...

Forgotten is all the wealth of words and thoughts and deeds that fill
their pages and used to fill our minds and hearts with
dreams and visions of what could be...

The bindings may be fraying and loosening and the pages may be brittle
and yellowing with age....

But, page by page, the words still speak to us...if only we would
listen...

Perhaps, before all the ink has faded, we can glean the treasures that
still appear if we take the time to look close enough....

And record them so as not to lose them forever...

Perhaps we can engrave them upon our hearts and upon our minds to be
shared with future generations...

We need to take out the soft cloth of kindness and gently rub the covers
with soothing oil to bring back the shine and the
vibrant colors...

We need to replace the old binding with strands of love and carefully
separate each page with tender touches and allow our
minds to absorb all there is imprinted on each one...

We need to retrieve them from those hidden shelves and place them within
our reach for they have much to teach us every
day...

Their words always ring true and their wisdom never gets old....

Only people do.

We tend to treat our aging population like some old books that we have
grown tired of...thinking that they have nothing
relevant to say for our "modern" lives...

We think we know it all and that since they are no longer pretty or
bright or quick in step or mind...

They need to be shut away where the only other ones who see or hear them
are of like kind...

For their protection...and for our guilt...

And, with each other can be seen in the meeting of their eyes, the
exchange of deep sorrow and pain and a sense of helpless
uselessness...

And a sense that there is nothing left to do but die...

And they watch with soulful eyes as their caring relatives live off of
what they took all their lives to build up, fighting
amongst themselves for a piece of their parent's pie....

While some of them barely have enough to eat.

How wrong they are about nothing being left to do...and how very wrong
are we.

For they are a wealth of knowledge and experience that can enrich all
whose lives they touch...if they are allowed to once
again see the sun...

If they can hear the children laugh and feel the warmth of a puppy's
nose...

If they can see, albeit with dimmer eyes, but still see and feel the
love from us.

There's gold among the silver that is tarnished and whose luster is
fading from the lack of light and care and love.

We still have much to learn...

And they still have much to give.

"Probation Officer by day....Writer by night..." In addition to criminal investigations, I investigate adult conservatorships and see first hand how our seniors are hurting or taken advantage of. I just turned 50 myself and am the grandmother of 3. I just wanted to share this poem. -- Donna