When I Grow Old

Thursday, November 19, 2009

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
at mirror-face
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
I live

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)


Maureen said...

It's a gorgeous poem, accented with a wonderful image. It works on so many levels, Kelly; tenderly "soul-seasoned".

L.L. Barkat said...

ooo, I like one part especially. And you'll know what it is tomorrow. :)

Anonymous said...

this rocks!

Marcus Goodyear said...

I enjoyed this line:

"from shade-limitation into full exposure"

It has really good sounds, repeating the Ls and the SHs.

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