TIME

 

 

Time plucks golden days from us

Like a lover plucks petals from a rose.

  Petals flutter off into nothingness,

Yet seed remains for next bright bloom.

 

Events and people fall into our lives like raindrops,

Some sweet upon the tongue, others only bitter cold;

Some fall far away, never to be felt or tasted,

Coming unbidden, tapping on our consciousness,

Random whispers of what awaits.

 

We drink those we fancy, sip their sweetness,

Endure the ones that chill our bones,

Naming each drop for the echo it leaves behind.

 

Some vanish before they touch our skin,

Evaporating into memory we never lived,

While others author indelible stories

Reflected in our faces, warped but true.

 

Events and people fall into our lives

Like raindrops on our face,

  Not chosen, unsummoned, but always felt.

And by their falling, we learn to taste the world.

 GROWING OLD

 

Harsh light reveals lines on the face in my mirror

A map of the journey that brought me to here

I search somber eyes for courage to face

The challenge ahead to finish my race

 

Time drips away like my unshed tears,

Evoking moist memories of all the years.

Dim echoes of youth whisper hollow and cold,

Dreams once bright growing quietly old. 

Shadows stretch long in the fading light,

Each moment a flicker in the impending night.

Hands once steady now tremble with grace,

Their touch still warm, though slowed in pace.

 

The laughter of youth, a distant refrain,

Soft as wind brushing windowpane.

I gather the fragments too fragile to hold—

Silver-lined memories worth more than gold.

 

Regrets stir gently, not fierce nor loud,

Like leaves descending from burgeoning clouds.

Yet pride remains in all that is done,

By callused hands and battles won.

 

A final chapter not yet penned—

Time to forgive, love, and amend.

Though steps may falter, and breaths grow thin,

The soul stays bold beneath the skin.