We are shaped by those who come before us,
Grandparents, fathers, mothers, Big sisters and brothers,
They tread the path ahead of us,
Cutting the undergrowth and clearing the way.
***
But a day will come where we take our own path,
Or the ones ahead of us have moved on and passed away,
In those times the undergrowth seems daunting,
And it feels like nothing will clear it away.
***
In those times it is worth remembering those,
Who are no longer with us on our path day to day,
But with their lives those,
Taught us how to clear the undergrowth.
***
From the stoicism of a grandfather in adversity,
To the warm glow of a mother's love to get you through the day,
The knowledge of a father,
Handed down to us by lessons day by day.
***
The loving smile of the neighbours on the streets,
Teaching you how to treat those who are around you,
To the lessons learned on the streets,
Teaching you how life should be cherished day by day.
***
All the little things picked up over a lifetime,
Set you up to succeed when those lifetimes are done,
When no more lessons are learned,
And it is your turn to get the lessons done.
***
Soon comes the day where it is on us,
To hand down those lessons once taught to us,
Their turn to learn from us,
Our turn to hand over one lastlife long gift from us.

Share, if you’d like. If this post stayed with you, you’re welcome to pass it on.

—

---

From Poetry to the Stars: A Thought-Provoking Science Fiction Novel

🌌 The Tannhauser Gate: A Hope For Tomorrow is a science fiction novel for readers who enjoy big ideas, moral questions, and stories that linger long after the final page.

Set against a vast galactic backdrop, it explores power, truth, loyalty, and hope — asking what we owe one another when the future itself is at stake.

👉 Discover the book (publisher discount available)

Also available from Amazon, Waterstones, Barnes & Noble, and as an audiobook.

A reflective science fiction novel exploring hope, power, and the cost of truth.

Big, powerful secrets, that glittered away, unsaid, on dark nights.
Like stars.

Related posts on Pesky Poetry:

—