The chair seems comfortable as I sink into its overstuffed arms – my mind reacts – “old guy!” and sets off a few alarms – but part of me says, “you deserve it, relax, take it in!” – while arguments rage on about being too old to “get” again –
I’m vital, young, stronger and healthier than many, yet time’s fallen upon my weary ways, and I LIKE the fact that I’m as old as the penny that I keep hidden in my wallet –
But what of it?
There’s a certain portion of mind over matter that defeats the age and belies the fatter torso I’ve become – but to run from this greying age and aching body’s trust would be wrong to years of honor served, so stand with it I must!
What a freaky crossroads. This aging hence and fading youth caught between sustaining strength and relishing the truth of all these creaking bones – sleepless nights – older stones.
There’s something here to admire – to drink in as elixir’d knowledge whole, that transition in living with age is harder than the thought of soul set free, when death has come – no fear have I, no worry, no run – but the aging to that final step hovers dark and so unknown – health and life are not guaranteed, but this living, breathing life I own –
I know my body’s aging – I know I’m not the strong man I was – I relished all the strength of youth and know I lived it large – because I wore myself out to this day – mountain man and athlete stay – but now there’s a physical limit to what this body brings – “dang it!” – but I know it’s wisdom of this life I sing…