Just a fun little poem on aging 10-2016
As I age this last quarter of my life, I am fading into the background. As I let go of roles,
My spirit communes with the four directions: To the north are in-laws, our aging mother, her last
Pretend there is no tomorrow becau… there might not be. Live like there is only this momen… that is the truth. Nothing is solid but whispery,
Memories of my childhood Visit more and more Each day, As ghosts of past relatives Cast their shadows,
This evening the blank, white page is open. My nerves are on edge, while a storm forms on the horizon.
Harsh reality smacks like a slap of cold wind. Sometimes I’m a tough sailor, at the helm,
In the rustle of leaves the wind plays a tune, the change of season is on the horizon. It asks permission
Great scientific minds Working for cures Of terminal diseases, The clock ticks... What is the cure
Perhaps it is the mind separating things into this and that. Perhaps it is the mind with it’s preferences
Rolling painted deserts of the west. Shrub bushes dot sloping hillsides. Relentless sun heats up
Life is not fair at times... But of course things Change quickly down the line, We are born into a No guarantee world.
The red cardinal high in a tree, caught my attention with his melodious chirp on my daily walk.
Today, I wish the pain to go, the fatigue that I fight so. This process of aging is unkind and yet, the law of nature is a fast lane of change.
Remember the night we took your mother’s car and drove over the skyway bridge? The moon was a bright light to show the way.
You may not know what you’ll do next: Hit the open road With your thumb stuck out. Give up all you own