The Way of the World (Poem)

It becomes ritual and when we ask
"Why do we do the things that we say
or mean the things that we do?"
our parents say:
"Ask your grandparents"

And our grandparents say:
"Back in my day we had
A thing called respect"

But respect is as tired as a two way street
littered with cliches
grown, not given out freely
earned from understanding

While familial love is unconditional and unbending
blind and faithful
and often means
loving that which we do not understand
but that which is closer to our heart
loving that in which we see our reflection

For reasons we do not question
because it's always been so
and it's become ritual

so when we ask:
"Why do we do the things that we say
or mean the things that we do?"
our parents and grandparents say:

"We always did the things that we said
and meant the things that we did
Back in my day
Back in our day
Back in those days."

And you learn to understand