Save Me From Progress
A poem
A poem
The march of progress leaves no one behind,
yet some struggle to keep pace.
Wrinkled hands fumble with sleek devices,
failing eyes squint at bright screens.
Once nimble minds now plod through digital landscapes,
weary synapses firing slow.
But wisdom exists in aged hearts,
earned through long seasons of joy and grief.
Though future shock may disorient,
inner compasses still point true.
Helpfulness and patience remain,
even as faculties decline.
So make room at the table
for those who paved the way.
Let them share hard-won knowledge
while learning anew.
Guide gently into this strange new world.
Honour what time cannot erase, humanity’s essence,
which no technology replaces.
With care and compassion,
we cross into the future together,
young and old.
The river of life flows on,
and we swim side by side.
