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Wise Old Owl

The older I get, the less I have to say.  I still talk a lot, trust me, but not half as much as I used to! And the older I get, the less passionate are my opinions. It would seem that the older you get, the more you would know, but it is having quite the opposite effect on me.  I can more often see both sides, and I feel like I know things less surely.

I was pondering this and remembered a poem I had taught my children years ago in homeschool:


A wise old owl lived in an oak

The more he saw the less he spoke

The less he spoke the more he heard.

Why can’t we all be like that wise old bird?


I’m getting to be an old bird, and trying to learn to be wise, too.  Listening helps a lot!

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