Old age happens when you're not looking.
It happens with recurring events
like; January snow
long hot summer days
and you no longer celebrating birthdays.
It doesn't come with the crackle of fireworks
more; the way a river reshapes a stone over time - persistently
quietly and unnoticed.
Finally the stones sharp edges become smooth,
like it would fit more comfortably into the palm of your hand.
Although the reflection in the mirror becomes a stranger
that too becomes more comfortable to you over time
telling you the truth - even though you don't want it,
nor did you ask for it.
Your face becomes softer
telling your story
the story of who you are - who you were.
Lines in the corners of your eyes
tell of times of sun
of times your heart was
full of joy - as well as full of hurt.
Your knees have an uncomfortable language of their own.
'Clicks' and 'cracks' cause groans and sighs
which speak of miles walked and burdens carried.
Lifes pace slows,
time seems burdensome - there's not enough it
yet somehow; too much of it.
The inevitable destination
not being further away
simply; you slowing down and the littlest of things demaning more attention than they used to.
There are things to let go of.
Things that previously seemed important
now; seems less so.
The need to be the loudest,
to have the newest,
the fastest,
the largest - are now not so important.
The heavy armor we used to wear to keep the world out,
now sits uncomfortably about our shoulders.
And why is the air cooler?
Is the skin more delicate,
or is the once flowing hair now thinner and more grey?
And that silence inbetween words
is no longer an uncomfortable empty space,
more a joy,
a refuge,
like a comfortable chair where you can finally sit down and rest.
The light too is different at certain hours.
Where once uncomfortably bright - it now glows,
turning the everyday ordinary;
into gold.
You notice the stars have come out
with a calling to look up
and gaze
and wonder
and enjoy the light
before it fades one more time - no more to return.
