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Poem
There are wrinkles
Now, lines erasing a past
Where the fine contours of her face
Were drawn, in color
Crisp, clean lineages from 
Time echoing hope,
Soothing away the fragments
Reality connecting the dots,
Gentling the descent
From her youth to the present
Moment, old age – drinking
Up most of her dreams,
Yet, she remains, ever graceful
Stroking the peace, the 
Prayers and praise, psalms
Poetry in the flames of darkness
Where she will never know
Those dimples creasing her skin,
The loose curls, gray like 
Skies who have only the rainbow
To show that there is still life
Behind the grumbling gloom, dreary
Drab and deafeningly grim,
Ancient, some would think of her –
Yet I know she is merely 
Aged, like fine wine or music
A classic, timeless – journeying 
Through her life, on the heals of forever
Enchanted by the moon, the sun,
The healing stardust laughter,
Colorless as the past, but her memories
Have never aged with her hair –
She still sees vibrant shades of red,
Deepest sapphire and purples
Boastful of their place in her heart,
In her dreams where I see
She still imagines and believes
She still knows the meaning of reflection
Impulse gives her a measure
Only a degree of enthusiasm, eager
To know what it is to be old,
Without seeing, in the mirror, her
Former self – without the pieces
Measured out, a teaspoon of doubt
A cup of peace and a spoonful of yearning
Blended all together
With her history, melted
On the burner of loyalty to love
Love that has been her one chance
To know what it is to age
Without aging, without seeing
The crumpled paper of her last dream,
Wrinkly as the skin around her
Once twinkly blue eyes, 
Now furrowed evidence of a past
Who doesn’t haunt her so
Much as it taunts her with its reflections,
Its light casting shadows
In every direction, silhouettes
Herself in the years gone, flashes
Hesitating with urgency,
Former moments, memories
Floating up through the crevices
Of her heart, as it aches
For the days when she didn’t know
The golden years aren’t truly gold –
Gold was never what she sought…
Instead, they hold the secret of her heart –
The memento of a love – a fire
That never burns out – it is her desire
To fill her moments with the warmth
From that never ending flame,
The same one that gave her life
Its inspiration, passion – vibrancy
The flames that burn for the One
Who casts every doubt into outer darkness
A darkness where fear calls her name,
But, in silence… she reaches into the flames
Where His presence, His light, forever
Remains, calming her fears, wiping away 
Every tear and assuring her heavy heart
That, forever, there will be unspeakable joy –
Because, in spite of every doubt…
She loved her way out of the clouds!
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