#have - Hello Poetry

my old adage poetry is where you find it, in every room in the house, every egress and exit, the passing conversation the desultory and the methodical, the overheard and the under heard the riff, and tha raff. many/not all/ children are climbers; a mountainous boulder in the Central Park, the steps of the nearest Mesoamerican pyramid, staircases with rooftop adventurous unknowns, there exists within many a child, the urgency, the compulsion to climb the ignorance of risk, is a specialty uniquely native to the very young, and disappears much sooner than later when the fear of heights becomes an early adult onset intuitive, sensory privation noticeably in the low legs suddenly gone weak but when you are the ripe old age of 5, 6, 7, 8, or even an odd nine year old child the tuition of intuition of gravity has not yet been fully paid, and scrapes and bruises are boo hoo here today, and though unwanted, are ****** gone on by the morrow morn, so any structure exist for the pleasuring of a thrilling challenge. (‘tis no accident that thrill and spill rhythmically rhyme) my point made. yet my seniority perspective inward on highest alert, as the granddaughter and the grand~niece scramble up, a high up shelf behind the family table, a shelf that was either deemed useful or decorative, but no one longer remembers the plain danger of something being being there, at the precise height of reachable and yet dangerous! that makes my half century warning bells go off like a firehouse alarm then I hear the young parents calling out calmly, perhaps, even wisely, do you have a plan to get down? in contradiction to my experienced instinct to run, to preserve, to protect the inocentes from the risks that only the protectorate of old grown ups can future envision instantaneously, and tethering seat belts are never where you would like them to be, a teachable moment, a life long skilling being put in place, and when so inquired, they scramble down with unforeseen ease by jumping down fearlessly from their latest attainments the day will come that a bone be broke, but not a heart or a mind, they are learning forever not to be afraid, when ya gotta plan to occasionally know how to step down. carefully, when you gotta just keep climbing, higher and higher.

0

May 18

May 18, 2026 at 2:32 AM UTC

nat-lipstadt

Do you have a plan to get down?

my old adage poetry is where you find it, in every room in the house, every egress and exit, the passing conversation the desultory and the methodical, the overheard and the under heard the riff, and tha raff. many/not all/ children are climbers; a mountainous boulder in the Central Park, the steps of the nearest Mesoamerican pyramid, staircases with rooftop adventurous unknowns, there exists within many a child, the urgency, the compulsion to climb the ignorance of risk, is a specialty uniquely native to the very young, and disappears much sooner than later when the fear of heights becomes an early adult onset intuitive, sensory privation noticeably in the low legs suddenly gone weak but when you are the ripe old age of 5, 6, 7, 8, or even an odd nine year old child the tuition of intuition of gravity has not yet been fully paid, and scrapes and bruises are boo hoo here today, and though unwanted, are ****** gone on by the morrow morn, so any structure exist for the pleasuring of a thrilling challenge. (‘tis no accident that thrill and spill rhythmically rhyme) my point made. yet my seniority perspective inward on highest alert, as the granddaughter and the grand~niece scramble up, a high up shelf behind the family table, a shelf that was either deemed useful or decorative, but no one longer remembers the plain danger of something being being there, at the precise height of reachable and yet dangerous! that makes my half century warning bells go off like a firehouse alarm then I hear the young parents calling out calmly, perhaps, even wisely, do you have a plan to get down? in contradiction to my experienced instinct to run, to preserve, to protect the inocentes from the risks that only the protectorate of old grown ups can future envision instantaneously, and tethering seat belts are never where you would like them to be, a teachable moment, a life long skilling being put in place, and when so inquired, they scramble down with unforeseen ease by jumping down fearlessly from their latest attainments the day will come that a bone be broke, but not a heart or a mind, they are learning forever not to be afraid, when ya gotta plan to occasionally know how to step down. carefully, when you gotta just keep climbing, higher and higher.