Thesis, Antithesis, And Synthesis Poem by Jonathan ROBIN

Thesis

The sixth age shifts to 'slipper'd pantaloon,
'shrunk shank and childish trebles in pipe'line,
slight space to trace ambitions in decline,
and 'hungry generations' tread' is no cartoon
reflected echo for sage or buffoon.
The die is cast, as pride before the fall
sends shadow shivers over summer's prime,
on autumn's outcome none now bet a dime
as winter wins blank cheque and blanker wall.
The voice for choice Alzheimer claims, no hand
stalls 'moving finger', makes up for time lacked,
signs devil's pact ensuring second act, -
the writing on that wall precedes Death's pall, -
leaves ten to add to three score then the night
draws curtains, guarantees no further flight.

Antithesis

Three hundred years ago few forty passed.
Men, wars, and women childbirth, both disease,
or accident, went west through fate's decrees,
forgotten faces breathed forgotten last.
Few now face sixty palsied and aghast,
for life expectancy at eighty sees
most in the West hale, hearty 'if you please! '
with those in lands less favoured long outcast.
Yet who now flirt with sixty's certainties
could well outlive old Nestor, breast Time's seas
with knowledge that activities which fast
faded, failed, in future may contrast
with fears for years and tears for biers, may 'seize
the day' with confidence that life
may buy more time amid this vail of strife.

Synthesis

Sixty need not be point of no return,
maturity salutes a second spring,
welcomes unexpected joys within,
adds spice to life as onwards cycles turn.
Much hangs upon sustaining will to learn,
where voice for choice rings true, can span time's spin
enhancing both enjoyment, will to win,
While some soon snuff, still many candles burn
bright into night and true respect may earn.
There is no date of weight, no wait, no sin -
save disrespect for self - as trust may twin
with Time to eke new innings, spurn concern.
This sythesis still presupposes Man
must make his peace with Nature, excess ban!


(13 July 2007)