How can this be
I’m ticking a box 49-54!
Tides have long eroded this shore
contours collapsed and new lines drawn
but I could still pass for young
if the lights were low and youthfulness
wanting to be someone.
Suddenly slowly the wheel has turned
beneath this moon
tectonic plates creep
twisting bones as I sleep
eclipsing projections of lives dreamed for
and childhoods that never were.
In most rooms now I’m the older one.
My to-do lists mostly done.
Wondering what now whilst knowing
there is no ‘there’ there,
only here and
I turn my face to the sun.
Old age can lead to people fading into the background, behind closed doors, behind children and grand children; erased by the scribbled lines of wrinkles, shrinking with osteoporosis, desexualized and homogenized by white hair; silenced by softening voices, failing hearing and a cultural devaluing of oldness itself. Or it can be a time of boldness, wisdom and vigor; a time less driven by ego, hormones and career pressures; a time to shift energy towards service and/or self-understanding; a time to exchange what we should do for what we want to do. Old age comes with permission slips for eccentricity, self-determination and unusual clothing. Continue reading