aging · change · life · Love · poetry · writing

Past Ripe

Fertile is love –
an ancient fruit tree
soft and up-giving

were life root
almost too wet –
moony world

Secret:  I wither,
am stone berry –
no rain at lake

walk bucolic earth
follow winter cover
shed colour

watcher,
will live,
do.

(Friday is Magnetic Poetry day.  Image is from personal collection.)

aging · change · creativity · ME/ CFS · poetry · writing

Proposal Response

Aging I am/ but not without wisdom,
and disabled / and in more ways, not –
unreliability / the state of my body
trending / creativity

Escape is proposed / from this hindering attitude
my oozing scars / soothed with tenderness
beg a stand/ that revitalizes
discover determination/ I am evolving

This slumbering/ now awakening
has become impulsive/ suggests renewal;
need discipline / new boundaries
to quiet the pain / still, I thrive

I am whiny / pay it no attention
self-mothering / not selfish
counselling bedrest/ a healthy balance
prone to coddling/ this budding creativity

need to shake off/ revitalize
this disoriented/ clearing
weakened state – / altered strength
escape is proposed / certain.

(This week’s challenge is a wild card.  The catch is to look back over recent postings and find the repetition, that becoming the prompt.  I noticed a repetition of ‘age’ and recognize a need to revisit my attitude towards this inevitability, so I decided to select an old poem which illustrates the issue and readdress it.  Left side of each line is the original poem: Proposal.  Italicized endings are the new response. Image from personal collection.)

 

aging · change · creativity · life · poetry · writing

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.
 

aging · creativity · life · poetry · writing

End of Day

Sun blazes before it falls,
slashes the day’s sky –
blue guarding against blaze.

Golden grasses absorb
the fire, brazen in their
clay-baked fields.

Branches blacken –
forlorn bristles –
stark against light.

I stand on the precipice,
day’s end beckoning,
taunting, my spirit alive

Will blaze before it falls,
lashing against the heavens
who dare to threaten darkness.

 

aging · change · creativity · life · poetry

Filters

Age
masks the depth
and breadth of ability –
houses more than anticipated
room for expansion, however;
current state of disrepair –
walls buckling, wiring faulty,
and security systems failing –
compromises output.

Old
holds a certain charm,
character well-earned,
but it would be useful
to install a mechanism
for locking out the past –
perhaps the future too –
eliciting and validating
the fullness of present.