(Poem) The Gift

To be an elder, sometimes
We look at their form and their wrinkles
Or their gait and their circular words
And wonder
How can we help elders?
But rarely do we see them
As a gift

A woman that I’ve come to see
Oftentimes she sits quietly
Observing, not initiating,
But one day she was outspoken
Her beautiful rings, bold and loud
On her tiny hands
She showed me, proud
Unable to name where they came
But they made her happy
The little things

Aw, I don’t have any rings, I said
And she looked at me seriously
You should, she said
Have your mother or father buy you one!
It was important, somehow
With her words so few
I wasn’t sure what she had meant
And I had laughed at the sentiment
But I took something from it
“See you tomorrow!” she said
For the first time

Over the weekend
I wandered into a knick knack shop
I came across a beautiful ring
And her message came to mind
Not bought by my mother or father
But by myself
My ring was empowering
I look at it sometimes
Such a little thing
Such an important thing

And now I think
How do elders help us?