Being A Grandparent Poem by Carolyn Brunelle

Wisdom grown from age
Blossoms into frustration
With the cycles of life.
Matters little that I did alright,
What burdens I carried to the light;
This old heart still breaks at the sight
Of another generation; their own fight.
Thank the good Lord above
It’s an enduring grace
That we are never alone;
And there is no end to love.
For though my children’s children
Believe it’s a brand new day
It’s these same old prayers
That will light their way.