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Poem

I was at one thirty once,
Now I am at two fifteen,
Time has moved incrementally,
Like my weight and BMI,
Crept up gradually, in small bites,
Of cheesecakes and raspberries,
And sips of mellow liqueurs.
The jelly donuts, braised salmon,
And finely seasoned burgers,
All join me as I wait,
In a waiting room with a sink,
Purple gloves, widgets, screens,
An examination table lies covered,
In a sheet with paint imprints,
Of little hands and feet.
 
I used to be young once and healthy,
The sunshine was my companion,
And books my evening friends,
Awe and wonder nourishing,
My constant curiosity,
And my fingers told my age.
They would coax me to eat,
Hunger was what I felt at home.
My illnesses were events,
Spent with comic book heroes,
Adventures, between sore throats,
And cool fever poultices,
Sprained ankles, bruised knees,
Tended, nursed and healed,
By caring, loving parents.
 
I had parents once, orphaned,
I will meet them again,
In the realm of souls,
As guides of a past journey,
Who were close to my heart.
Sharing their love and wisdom,
Like bits of mirrors, reflecting,
Fractured images and decisions,
Guides disembarking earlier,
As I meander down alleys,
Meadows, climb hills, and walk,
In the valleys and boulevards,
Seeking, learning, loving,
Hating growing old and pudgy,
Yet embracing the grace of age.
 
I will grow old again, older than I am,
Older than I was, Like the sun,
Journeying through the sky,
While you mark the hours and days,
The seasons and years,
I live by my rising and my resting,
Through some pain clouded days,
In the beauty of existence,
Seeking and finding love,
Hidden like Moss, Mushrooms,
And Opals in sudden, unexpected places,
And vague unknowing hearts.
Finding and collecting memories,
Until my memories find me in you.

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