OLD AGE

 

Psalm 92:14

 

“Even in old age they will still produce fruit;

 they will remain vital and green.”

 

Even at my older age,

I am at a stage

where some would even say,

I am past my prime

and what would or could I offer in time,

but, for those that scoff and scorn

they are very much mistaken;

for I have much to give at my age,

and for those who foolishly wonder,

what I have to offer is much more,

than wayward youthful thoughts,

or uncompleted dreams

and many untested schemes,

for my challenges in life have been plenty.

 

And through my life book story told

there has been many of sufficiently,

and of wanting more,

and of needing less,

and through each passing phase,

lessons of life have been an endless chore,

in helping me to breach each challenge thrown yonder,

till I can look and ponder past

the many mistakes I took onboard,

and through the many chapters

of what my life has been all about.

I had walked many steps,

and even stumbled and tumbled in turn;

in order to pick me up

through the stage called childhood.

 

Then at the next chapter

I thought I knew it all,

and many a mistake was made

in order to test the waters.

and the next step for me

in my time of growing facial hair,

was to be out and about

in serving my country overseas,

sailing the oceans and the seas

in a time of a foreign war.

 

My next clause in the life of me

was a bride on her father’s arm

walking down an aisle,

and then I said ‘I do’

and a marriage made in heaven begun,

and from the match

came the refrain of little pitter-patter feet.

And through each passing day;

‘twas a time of growing

and of learning lessons taught.

 

Till there came the stage of middle-age

and wondering why life has become,

at a frenetic walking pace of bewilderment

of when is it going to slow down to a monotonous pace,

and before I knew it

a grandchild was held in arms,

and another chapter in life had begun.

 

Then for me, my working life had ceased,

and my next interval be

was wondering what to do with daily time,

in order to be productive strong,

and from a strong sense of purpose

and from many pages put into chapters,

authorship of words had sprung to life,

another commitment of worth had begun,

as stories told in verse flowed forth,

and with each unfolding line

for me, my next chapter in life had new meaning,

and as each new book unfolded;

of gifting kept in reserve for a time

of plenty of spare moments for each day.

 

Now as I look back in ruminations strong,

I cannot afford to tarry long

in hoping for what might have been,

but to take each coming day

to be the best I can make it so,

and to remember those wise words;

that in my old age

I will produce a bountiful harvest of edible fruit,

until the day

that comes my way,

and a cenotaph will honour me,

and it will say

‘now you know where the scars have come from.’

 

(2019)