I want to grow old-------------------------------
as October eases into November into
December and back again into Spring,
gracious in gray, clad in winter's first
as a bride wears a dream on her wedding day.
I want to find beauty
in windswept snow-ridges
on hands that were smooth and smile
with unchanged eyes
the same soul peering out,
a little wise
a little joyful
a little seasoned with
some Christmas spice and a bit of blizzard passion
like peppermint meeting brisk winter wind in the new year.
I want not to die
before breath slows - and stops,
leaving flesh wrapped in allspice,
red earth-petals peeled, hibiscus layer of
fallen dust lingering sweet as kisses for
those I have loved alive, while in death
I live anew in
April fullness, in
summer glory, in
autumn memory, my spirit rising on spring
like a kite in a scented wind embraces the whole sky.
I want finally to dwell full alive
in I AM who is
passing like the seasons at winter's end
from shade-limitation into full exposure,
bathed in new God-glory,
as a wizened babe breathes first breath on its birth-day.
for this I was born, for this
Written in response to L.L. Barkat's poetry prompt - Fruits, Herbs & Spices (and the occasional snap pea & golden beet). A bit of a play on words took this from spices to seasonings to seasons, but I thought I would submit it anyway. Just something I've been thinking about.
(Image © Informal Moments Photography)