Change

At 15, changing high schools in mid –stream

came with floods of anger, regret, fear,

and also dreams of an enhanced me,

and, most important, more popularity among peers,

although I was a timid introvert.

A motley jumble of feelings;

yet wasn’t this what defined change—

big, swift movements?

Double 15,  more and more life changes

but these weren’t  all big, swift,

although marriage, births, unexpected deaths,

house ownership were tremendous,

too, I registered subtle movements of the earth,

barely quantfiable stirrings of the mind,

impalpable beatings of the heart.

For days, weeks, routine daily steps,

at triple 15, I barely noticed what the mirror monitored;

months, years, and  then I became captive

to the startling stares of the mirror—

a smile forced, eruption of creases,

hair less abundant, white streaks—

face to face the stealth of change.

Quadruple 15, I learned how to guide some shifts—

encouraged the cooling of one friendship,

the warming of another, shaped equilibrium.

An understanding  of controls followed as I

granted myself permission for introversion to bloom,

granted myself permission to be independent,

granted myself permission to be the me I could like.

Quintuple 15 and I witness change almost daily,

the small, internal happenings invading with more frequency.

More and more, I reflect how change has changed me,

how far from the 15-year-old emotions I have traveled.

I wonder how I will handle the biggest change of all—

It will be interesting.

MWM 12/22