Tag: Poetry on aging

This is a difficult season watching the days get shorter. You need to find things to do to fill the dark hours.

The days are short and the nights are long,

Living is not easy because there is too much striving,

Too much urgency to do something that does not need to be done,

Too much urgency to be someone I do not have to be.

The flowers are all tucked away beneath the ground;

The mulch has been laid to give them a cozy bed;

But the hope of a bright spring makes the toil worthwhile.

And I sit here in the dark before my screen

Searching for some important thing to say,

But knowing deep inside that everything has been said.

The years are piling up.

One more season before three score and ten,

And the seasons are all blending together,

And the winter tales are no longer worth repeating.

So meaning has to lie somewhere else.

Somewhere within.

Somewhere where the sun never shines,

Some place where there is no darkness,

Some place where the ticking of the clock stops,

Some place where there is no need for sleep,

No need for rest and recuperate,

Nothing to complain about,

Nothing to brag about,

Just an endless parade of moments within moments,

Where all is as it should be,

And just BEING is all that there needs to be.