Poem – As We Get Old

As we age and our hair becomes grey.
We see the silences as a profound doorway.
And we slow down and stop the rush.
We listen more to that mysterious hush.

We feel the tiredness in our bones.
And appreciate the warmth of our homes.
Our eyes sink into the shadows of our skull.
And we remember fondly our youthful numbskull.

We relish reading our favorite books by the fire.
Remembering so much that we so deeply desired.
And think of those we have loved that are no longer here.
We talk to the spirits that we still hold so dear.

In the morning and night, we look into the mirror.
Feeling the dead coming ever nearer.
We see the reflection of someone we did not know.
We look for that glimmer and that familiar glow.

I promise to love the deeply veined hands.
I will never stop from dreaming or wanting to understand.
I have touched so many and traveled to learn.
I promise to not let too much worry and concern.

Stop me from seeing the magic of age.
Because my soul from this body will disengage.
Nothing can stop the freedom of my soul.
Eventually my spirit will be given a parole.
~Suzanne Wagner~