WORDS ON THE HORIZON

PLAY 'IT'S TIME TO BE YOUNG'

"Every summer is a road-trip,
a joyride kindled for love
and every sight is a gift
made from the Hands above.

So, oh, what better time to be young.
Hey, oh, it's time to be Young.

A time to go with the flow,
sailing above the sun's wrinkled glow
and lovers' nests may be plenty
but the greatest stories are written
on the road.

So, say, oh!!
What better time to be young,
Hey, oh!
it's time to be young!
The children of summer,
encore!!"

And just like that,
we played his favourite tune
as if it was the beginning
of his tenth year,
''the first time is the one you never
forget
and as I heard it then,
I knew the song
would stick in my ears"

Grandpa,
bidding farewell to his setting sun's
wrinkled glow,
had his last wishes,
"one that you don't put my last address as my deathbed
and second that you always play this song,
even when the world ends"

The song that addressed life as a road trip unto itself,
the greatest tune that he first heard
while out with the brood,
on a trip to the hills.

      ***

Last summer,
he played it again
and again on the stereo.
Grandpa was with us,
to visit his June retreat
and had never seemed as happy,
singing in his sweetest timbre
and harkening to his days of prime
as a choir boy.

What a day it was,
passing through the valley of life,
almost chanting his favourite lines
then moderating our humming
with his spoken word reiteration,
as the song lulled him to an afternoon nap.

"See to it, my girl
and look intently towards it,
my boys,
come what may,
play 'it's time to be young,
the children of summer'
till the end of your days"

   **
The song is life
The song is love
A gift and a promise,
sent from the hands above.

So we play it,
play it again and hum,
'it's time to be young,
the children of summer'

***

NOTE:  this poem is designed as a gift of nostalgia and familial bonds, with  imagined song lyrics based on a road trip, traversing the journey of life itself.