Gosh, I haven’t written poetry in ages. But when I received Prabath’s latest piece (see below) of Thackery juxtaposed between age and youth, it got me reminiscing on my life, which is, by favourable and reasonable estimates, at its halfway mark.
Since mom’s passing, I think about death often. Not that I’m brooding or fearful of it, simply as one notes the passage of time through the seasons, environmental changes and the like. Our bodies are ecosystems and they pass through season after season, transforming, decaying and eventually slowing to the point where our energy returns whence it came.
Age should not be feared: only understood, respected, and embraced. That’s the roundabout message of what I’m trying to say with “Wrinkle”. Love yourself, love your loved ones, love your health while it endures; and in the end reflect on it all with fondness and joy and depart into the next Great Mystery with that same adventurousness and gentleness of spirit.
Wrinkle
A wrinkle
A twinkle, fading
from a yellowed eye
Fast as we race
Neither thee nor thine
Can outpace
Father Time
Though it’s not all sorrows
Or aching morrows
Turgid as the marrow
in our bones
The lives we’ve built
The loves who’ve lasted
In the silt
Of years gone past
When our final winter comes
And Death’s fingers thrum
Impatiently
On the shutters of thine cozy abode
Can you open the door
invite the pale girl in,
smiling—and fearless
giddy, near gormless
Having lived a life,
as full of love without as within?
A wish for thee,
a wish for me
That this is how we part
As humble as the start
Naked, though not alone
Free of flesh, breath and bone
Limitless and soaring
Through eternity
—Christian A. Brown, 2020
Beautiful and poignant Christian!
Thank you! Ageing (and all that comes with it) certainly gives you a broader perspective on life.
Hope your having a lovely weekend! Thanks for stopping by.