Mr. Peaks: a parable

26 Jan

Youth, courting love,

spared no introduction.

Labored in maintenance

for objects gathered,

clearing a space for assumption, fell into old age.

Awarded with memories

that come and fade

of objects and maintenance

unable to seduce the maid.


Posted by on January 26, 2014 in AARP, Love, parable, Philosophy, prose, Zen


Tags: , ,

4 responses to “Mr. Peaks: a parable

  1. Gabriella

    January 28, 2014 at 3:37 pm

    Bitter sweet words, ZQ! We can feel the awkwardness of youth through your words.


  2. Sherry Blue Sky

    January 26, 2014 at 1:58 pm

    I love what Brian says, hee hee. And, also, what Mary says. An oblique and well-written parable. I love “fell into old age” – that’s what happens. But we go kicking and screaming!!!!!


  3. brian miller

    January 26, 2014 at 12:43 pm

    ha. it might not be a bad thing…the made might drive us to an early grave…smiles.
    it happens to all of us you know….


  4. Mary

    January 26, 2014 at 10:26 am

    Sometimes, however, one can hope to find in ‘age’ what one did not find in ‘youth.’



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