From falling leaves. by Kathleen Rains ( poet )

Long ago I thought you young bright daimon
Whisperer in my ear
Of springs of water, leaves and song birds
by all time younger than I
Who from the day of my conception
Began to age into experience and pain
But now life in its cycle swings out of time again.
To see how old you were
Older by eternity than I, who my hair gray,
Eyes dim with  reading books,
Can never fathom those grave deep memories
Whose messenger you are.
Day springs to the young, and to the old, ancient of days.