Ageing

Celebrating age in a Haiku ….

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When I Am Old

I’m not going to be that old lady
With nothing but gossip to while away hours
Planted in front of the TV soaps
Who plays bingo or drinks sherry
Wearing strings of pearls
With rouged cheekbones and painted nails

Instead my days will draw to a close
Like a vibrant painting
Where splashes of life
And streaks of colour
Will splatter in abstract abandon
As the ink dares to cross the lines

The twilight years where being me
Casts away the cloak of expectation
And dances in the meadow of inspiration
Shouting poetic expression across the plains
And where fresh air rouges my face
Whilst bubbling springs wash over my bare feet

And I will run through forests of books
The inscriptions of the wise
In a quest for eternal knowledge
Jumping into the deepest oceans
To swim against the tide
To bathe in enlightened waters

For the spirit of ageing
Will bloom like the autumn cherry
Fighting the tides of winter
In one final exclamation
Of everything that is life
And of everything that makes life great!

Age – A State of Mind

Age – a state of mind
To be embraced for sure
Reflecting who we really are
In mind and heart and more
That frees the soul, enlightens
Into maturity
Though let us not forget that we’re
Young in eternity

Birthdays

They come but once a year
A celebration of life
The good, the bad and the ugly
The old, the young
The happy, the sad
Indiscriminately ticking off the next number
But seriously! How many candles this year!?!?

 

Ophthalmic Twist

When I was young I marvelled with my eyes
To navigate the world and all I saw
I loved and laughed and, yes, I sometimes cried
And sought to see as much for certain sure

When I was older by the use of sight
I read and learnt absorbing words in text
And saw so many things past rainbows bright
Exploring life to see what happened next

But now I’m old and vision escapes me
The light grows dim and sights blurs to a mist
My heart is now my compass and my lens
Accommodating in ophthalmic twist

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That Thing

That thing
That thing that I can no longer access
That precious thing that defines me
Yet no longer I know
That no longer resonates
No longer lingers in the corridors of mind
Harbingers no more in neural mazes
And yet as in a maze wonders lost

So lost
Lost to yesterday and maybe lost now
For who maybe knows anymore?
Do I know? Do you know?
What is there but this
Cognition impaired; memories gone
Confusion; chaotic thoughts
Nothing; absent threads of cognizance

Cognizance stripped
Stripped like the bark of an old tree
But no-one sees.  Not even I see
The sagacity trapped deep in the folds
For degeneration of matter
Is the mask that now seems only to matter
And yet – you see – I am still me
Yes! Deep inside I am still that thing

A yellow flower of Coleostephus myconis (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Age

They say you’re as old as you feel
But why this obsession at all
For there’s so much else other to think of
Less trip over years and then fall

I mean does it matter how long you’ve existed?
Do we care that some age or look more?
Or some are much younger and greener
Whilst preserving the years well for sure?

Does it really seem so very important
What number of birthdays you’ve had?
When really in essence the point is
Whether you’ve lived a life happy or sad

For some might just live for a short time
But the time that they have here on earth
Makes a difference that’s something amazing
Changing hearts by their virtue of birth

And some might breathe in over a century
With wisdom and stories to tell
Resonating in old age eternal
To then make that difference as well

So make age in fact just a number
Not an edict that summaries you
For what you do with the time that you have here
Is more vital and that is quite true!

English: sandglass that is part of interior Bonifacius-church, Medemblik, The Netherlands (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Youthful Oaks

Silver greys temple bound
Folded contours to be found
Crow’s feet resting by each eye
Dappled skin from age spots spied
Hard of hearing, aches and pains
Slowing down to take the strains
Midriff spread and puffy paws
Signs of ageing evermore

But past the tide of ageing signs
Wisdom’s wealth lays realigned
Knowledge, skill, experience
Moulded from resilience
And memories that pave the way
From yesteryear to present day
So let us all uphold these folks
Who bring today; great youthful oaks!

Oak trees at Oak Alley Plantation (Photo credit: Morten Rand-Hendriksen)

Neural Blooms

There is a place deep in ourselves
Where free will operates
A place where liberty exists
Where right and wrong relate
Where tides of anger lay controlled
By stronger stimuli
Where good emerges, bad deeds fade
A place where conscience lies

Though sadly in the twilight hours
That seat of consciousness
Can lapse into the evening air
Diminish and regress
As cells degenerate and die
And systems fail to fire
With palsy’s grip that suffocates
The will and hope’s desire

A wash that drowns the mind of man
The sea of discontent
The fate of free will held hostage
In airs of malcontent
Where cruelly all those better times
Are stripped down horribly
With no concession towards night
And darkness neurally

There is a place deep in ourselves
Where free will operates
A place to treasure and hold dear
Lest it becomes too late
So go forth into life enjoy
The seeds turned fragrant flowers
But care for those whose blooms are gone
In their retiring hours

The Sum of Age

For what is age if nothing more
Than a count of years gone by
A measure of the days once lived
Just numbers in the sky!

For there appears another view
That might be the real deal
For one thing is for certain that
You’re just the age you feel

For older or still wiser and
Improving every day
Age is the wine or fruit ripening
The clock unwound per se

For what is age if nothing more
Than a count of years gone by
A sum of numbers clocking up
As seen in the mind’s eye!