I've been thinking, of late,
"How old is old?"
The lady in the mirror
Looks more like my mother than me.
The joints have more aches and pains.
Yet, I still feel like "me."
I still ache to travel,
To walk, to swim, to talk.
I still enjoy a bowl of mussels,
I still am passionate about reading
Writing still makes me think.
I was swimming laps, deep in thought
As my body moved slowly but surely down the lane,
Perhaps we are all on a journey
To learn, to be compassionate
To grow older from the time of our birth.
To embrace new experiences, with joy.
To endure new challenges, with confidence.
To grow older, with grace.
4 comments:
Well, I am right where you are, except I can’t swim laps. (Though I am envious- it seems like such a soothing, meditative thing to do.) Your poem has a quiet mood that I appreciate. Your early line really caught me- ‘the woman in the mirror looks more like my mother than me’- zing! And the journey you describe- so comforting to think about. It almost seems as if buoyed in the water as you move through the years…
I'm with you here, and I am young still! More aches and pains each year, more wisdom, more getting to know myself, and yet — I still feel like that 17-year-old most of the time, just figuring it all out.
Love your deep thoughts while swimming laps, Anita. I do some of my best thinking when I lap swim!
Sheryl Sandberg once said, "If we grow old, we are lucky." I think about that statement a lot when my joints ache and I see a lot of silver streaks in the mirror.
Very nice :)
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