THE PASSING OF THE YEARS

THE PASSING OF THE YEARS

  

I’ve done some thinking lately

And it somehow frightens me,

Just how the years are passing

And the changes that I see.

My body tells me I am older

But in my mind I am still a girl

Taking on the world’s great problems

With a flourish and a swirl.

I still have a sense of justice

As I had once before,

It’s my body that is aging

In my mind I’m twenty four.

Marching in a protest

Standing for what I believe.

I did that again at fifty five

No changes I perceive.

Thirty years have passed

Since I first gave birth

To see my “baby” fully grown

The greatest joy on earth.

I have passed the baton on

To another daughter bold

Whose heart so wide and open

The whole world it could hold.

Brown spots upon my hands

Oh gosh - Oh deary me.

That only happens to older folk ~

But it is happening to me!

I still feel the same about things,

And still love and think and feel

All the things I always felt –

But there are wounds which will not heal.

I still feel the barb of great injustice

To the people of the world.

I still weep great tears of sorrow

As another grenade is hurled.

Once I would have stood outside Offices

And told them the thoughts in my head,

But arthritis in my feet now pains me

So I’ll email them instead.

  

It’s not a glamorous business

This growing older day by day,

But I try to do it with dignity

And watch the things I say.

Yes I am growing older

And I don’t like it very much. ~

It takes me about twice as long

To do only half as much.

I still weep at nature’s beauty

And friendships kindly ways,

The dewdrop on a summer rose

Crisp and misty autumn days.

Birthdays at thirty, forty, fifty

All came and went away.

I really am quite grateful

For each and every day.

So as I look in the mirror

And see the lines upon my face,

I try to recall the things I’ve done

And the memories I retrace.

I am glad I have these wrinkles

They are a map of the years,

They tell the story of my life

Of the laughter and the tears.

So growing old is a blessing

And thankful I will be

For all the friends who have supported

And travelled this road with me

©  Linda J. Vaughan