In today’s day and age you might think a saying like that was attributed to “45” or Putin. In my Father’s day he might have imagined it was Jack Benny or Groucho Marx. When I was growing up I could easily have credited Casey Stengel or Yogi Berra.
Now that I have grandchildren, I have begun to embrace my inner Seanchaí. I am become “the keeper of words.” What I have sown in my springtime, I am reaping in my autumn. I have come to cuddle with these warm words, on a cold night by the fireside.
When the wood crackles and the mind travels, a story tells itself. Truth, stretches to reveal something new. I have learned to follow each lie where ever it may lead in search of its truth.
“All of my lies are true?”
You must grow your self
No matter how tall your parent
Time, is the story teller.
Mark W. Ó Brien has been widely published at home and abroad. He is an alumnus of the Blackwater International
Poetry Festival. This is his fourth poetry collection.