I’ve found much angst on Main Street today. Gas pains I suspect. For years I’ve been fortunate and blessed with the memories of a smiling face from my youth. Earl Mosley never complained. Though I suspect he had much he could have whined about, he never did. He was a sage of sorts in my young life. A simple man that made and is still making an impact on my life.
The following poem is written in the Southern dialect according to my friend Joelle. The style reflects the simplicity and wisdom of years that I’ve grown to respect, a virtue that is quickly passing in these sophisticated days.SHAKIN’ DAYS
Hush chil’. Don’t you fret ain’t no tears gonna help you git yo way. Now go on, go on ’bout yo play and quit yo worry with a day dat ain’t here. What wit all da cares t’da ain’t no time to waste away on da-morrow. Git on wit da task at han an whil you young chil’ learn to stan da days. Deys gonna be sho a plenty to tear you down lest you got any standin’ pow’r. Oh, thank you Jesus. And in dis hour teach us Laud yo standin’ pow’r. Help da young’un and de old to find um sumpin’ dey can hold when da days go to shakin’, shakin’ to yo soul. Teach us Laud to praise yo name soon as da new day brang us from our sleep. And when dhese feet hit da flo, sho us Laud which way to go. Sholy, sholy we can’t stand lest you got us by da hand. Hush now chil’ don’t you fret ’cause I ain’t seen no time yet when my good Laud done fogit to hep His chullin’ stan.
jrw copyright 9/3/94
Thanks Earl Mosley.
Happy Memorial day to ya’ll and have a great weekend!