I can still dance
to the mirror
to my humming
I will dance
Awkward it may be
whilst laughters
down me
rolling
on
the floor.
I will dance
till breathlessness
till creaking joints
take me
into
tiredness
and, ah!
flat-out
sleep!
1
Second Chances
What finish line?
Don’t mention it
Say, there are
second chances
Not to race to win
But to walk,
stride, or sashay
to my rhythm
my melody.
Hands
I
When there are no more hands
to hold mine
And the journey is still long
I may be alone, perhaps not
I may forget, sometimes
It will not be about hanging on
It will not be about slipping into
It will be ageing consciously.
II
Path of life runs long
sometimes rough
Walk, sway or swagger
Ageing can walk alone
unafraid, confident
when fears not death
When fancy beckons
Answer it, take it
Sweet butterfly life
Age is bloom
when years age
with grace.
III
I will learn
Even now, I will learn
as I move on
Day to day
Gratitude and humility
to guide
Too much thinking
Too much care
A living lost
Lone heart
Lone one
Never lone spirit
As far as heart can hold
As far as dream will lead
Let it, freely.
IV
Living the real age
Living the truth
Lies hurt
Truth be told
Truth be bold
Purity of intent
By design I weave
and evolve
in the cycle of life
What’s tear, what’s rust
Gems or dregs
Impressions of age
This is my story
What is yours?
No explanation required.
V
When the journey is still long
I will seek colours
to live well, to live full.
Will there be hands to hold mine
Will there be hands to break
stumbles and falls
I may forget
I may be alone
Who will hold my hand?
I will remember I can reach out first.
