GROWING OLD
Autumn leaves of gold, purple, scarlet, yellow, russet --
Their loveliest since early Spring.
Yet -- looking closely -- see edges frayed or worn,
wrinkled and creased.
From the distance, beauty --
Up close, wasting away.
I believe it’s the same with us.
As our bodies age -- where am I now? --
somewhere in mid autumn? --
My body is wrinkling, drying, creased --
frayed at the edges.
As I grow in God, hopefully,
as with the leaves,
the glow comes through.
As I watch my older mothers, sisters, friends,
turn from Autumn to Winter,
the line is drawn closer --
They pale,
fade,
gray --
And cling to the bough that no longer supports them.
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I wrote this a few years ago. I know it's about Autumn -- and we're in Winter -- but the point is the same... age kicking our tails a bit, but hoping, as we grow older, we will have enough of God's character imbedded in us that we can glow in the dark.
That's my significant hope, anyhow. [Be a nice Christmas gift, wouldn't it?]
That's my significant hope, anyhow. [Be a nice Christmas gift, wouldn't it?]
3 comments:
Caryjo-- thank you for this, it is beautiful, through and through.
Going from glory to glory is our gift in aging until one day we reach the golden glow where the clock ticks the last tock because Love wears no watch.
Your poem is lovely, as we age we are changing from one glory to another glory. Our body does not look the same as from a few years back, but Praise God, our Spirits are growing in grace and are more beautifiul than before.
There's a special beauty all its own in an aged face.
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