Their raw youth
Was tenderly witnessed
By age owed eyes
In awe
Their awkward glory
Surpassing polished learning
More than could ever anew
This poem is a reminder to both young and old about the raw beauty of youth, the vim and vigor, dream-filled ebullience, and grace-filled awkwardness. This poem can be understood without additional context, though the title — A Choiring, Raw Youth — is perhaps both a clue and enigma. This poem was inspired by a high school choir performing at the retirement community where my dad lives. I was youthful in compare to the rest of the audience, but, I am at that age where high school kids look look younger every year — and eventually either they or I will be issued diapers! The experience and perspective of age — age owed eyes — may be uniquely able to appreciate the stunning juxtaposition of adolescent awkwardness and untainted talent. For me, this elicited great compassion and hope. It is a rare day that I would trade age for youth. Though I frequently quip that youth is wasted on the young. Still, even this quip is a cloaked compliment at the glory of youth, in awe of its awkwardness and blooming energy. Their performance made a home for joy. And as they headed out into the world, I trust that their freshness will continue to make this place we call earth ever anew. I was bettered by the presence of their performance. May people of awe ages give way to their fresh hope and awkward glory.
