SuziCate's Musings

Posts tagged ‘Aging’

When and Now…

When I was a child I thought

Children danced on angels wings.

Now that I am old I know

Our lives are the wings on which angels dance.

When I was a child I dreamed

Of unicorns, mermaids, and magical things.

Now that I am old I know

Our lives are magic left to dreams and chance.

When I was a child I thought

I’d never grow gray, frail, or old.

Now that I am old I know

In my heart I shall always remain young.

When I was a child I thought

Little was true of what I was told.

Now that I am old I know

Truth is the heartbeat of the tune I’ve sung.

When I was a child I thought

I could become anyone I dreamed.

Now that I am old I know

I really just wanted to belong.

When I was a child I thought

Life was as simple as it seemed.

Now that I am old I know

In my heart of hearts I was not wrong.

Mirror Image

First Landing 005

 

What the water sees

is the hairy, wrinkled skin

of old men Cypress

down upon their knees

looking for the youth of time

who now are bent trees.

What You Don’t Know

IMG_3760

 

Teardrops fall upon the landscape, wearing and tearing

Its way through the winters and splinters, lining and defining

A form-fitting drape which layers the soul. Leached and bleached

We lay scattered like parched bones, weak and unable to speak

Beneath a shining golden sun of season and reason.

Rust only rubs off on those who dare to care, those close enough

To touch the stitches of past, of time which didn’t last.

Run your fingers along the coarse wood of time; remember its prime.

Trace the grain, live its pain; feel the furrows etched in the depth.

Look around, see the cost, and know this soul was never lost.

Panels Of Existence

Worn and weathered, rising to seek the sun;

sunflowers in our own right.

Wrinkles of life stretch upon us,

yet we shine within the light.

We carry the grace of time on our houses

and wisdom and love in our hearts.

We peel and crack; and still we dance

beneath the skies of all life imparts.

Once

Just a reflection of what I once was,

yet I still stand tall though I lean.

Time seems to have beaten me down,

but don’t feel sorry for me;

I ran long and hard so these feet deserve a rest.

My eyes have seen more than their fair share.

I’ve witnessed wonders and miracles,

and beauty beyond words.

The pain in a lifetime only intensifies

gratitude of the goodness one is gifted.

You, too, will reach that point of slowness,

a time that simply being silent and still

and knowing yourself inside more than out

is enough in itself…it is a deep wisdom

that comes with age and experience…

it comes to those who have truly lived.

When you see me as a gnarly and holey old woman,

I ask you to look again and see that I am holy.

I tell you to never forget life is sacred…

one day you will be here reflecting

upon the shell you once were.

Death

no more counting rings

when wrinkles weather the skin

and holes pierce the soul

Rusty Truck

days of riding free

are tucked beneath the floor boards

of youth’s memory

 

put out to pasture

wind sweeps through open windows

body now defunct

 

rusting time away

as it watches life pass by

going nowhere fast

Another

Thoughts

Blow in like rings of smoke

And drift off before they can be caught

Clinging to a prism of time

Tangled in all that never was

And all that will never be

Though she is just another patient

To yet another doctor

She is still your mother

And you will except no feeble excuses

In failed attempts to bring her back

On good days she remembers you as a child

Other times she thinks you are the maid

Or perhaps the sister of her childhood

And on the worst of days she screams

As if you are draining the blood from her veins

With no remorse

For the scrape upon her mind

She gets back up on her bike

And rides off into another day

Maybe years ago

When she was young and carefree

Or maybe a time to come

That only she can see

She looks past you when she smiles

As she chases butterflies in open fields

She picks daisies to pluck

The petals of love one by one

And when the ill winds rage

Against her guiltless soul

She pulls her tattered coat tightly

And softly fingers

The button-less holes

One Shot Wednesday

A Life Passed By

Broad tree limbs laden with fear

Blocked the light escaping her soul

Valley of secrets, shamed to silence

Stifled and dying, never to be told

No yellow daffodil or purple iris

Will grace her garden to unfold

Strong, bitter winds beat her down

To an empty heart, hard and cold

No cleansing rains of life to sustain

The bones brittled weary and old

When the only thing she wanted

was someone to love and to hold

My entry for One Shot Wednesday.

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