Age’s Rant

What if days were berries
growing bright, whose sumptuous
juices blossomed only in Summer?

How sad it would be –
such limitations, disrespectful
of the creator to surmise
an inevitability of dormancy –

I will not believe it!
Our days are like seasons –
motivations and movement
fluctuating, weaving into
a tapestry of greater glory

There is no single season
of bloom – even berries resurrect.

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Permission to write, paint, and imagine are the gifts I gave myself when chronic illness hit - a fair exchange: being for doing. Relevance is an attitude. Humour essential.

18 thoughts on “Age’s Rant”

  1. Love the ending, such a positive feeling. Last week a grade 2 student told me I look like her Great Grandma (Grandma I could live with, but great Grandma?) and today a grade one student pointed out that I looked like the illustration of the old lady in the book he was reading! I’m holding on to your words..there is no single season of bloom. lol

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