For men I have heard it said
now let's get real
You are only as young
as the woman you feel
Chronologically I am almost seventy eight
biologically I am only thirty four
Am aiming to live way past
this so called "old' age of four score
Pretend I am Methuselah who reputedly reached
the age of nine hundred and sixty nine
Disputation, were they solar years or lunar months
a pristine environment no doubt reduced the ageing rate of decline
No matter how long I'm here
it's quality of life I'll always seek
Live in the moment there is no future or no past
quantity we have some choice I'll always strive to reach my peak
Wisdom comes with age to those who live long enough!
As one keeps traveling,
One keeps marveling;
Little cause to be sniveling,
Still less to be driveling
For the stupendous much one had seen;
Not anymore The Horn “Unequivocal Green.”
Yes, for having met with a lot,
For the most part encountering the hot,
Naturally mocking what one had got.
A richness that from the eyes draws mist,
Childish stuff ones previous treasured list
And, I swear, jotters of some journalist.
Such traveler, though, keeps ageing,
His system wordlessly raging,
As it continues to seem a Methuselah’s
Or like A Drunk’s often in cellars.
Who could escape seeming weather-beaten
And the unluckier traveler rust-eaten?
A load of unfixed weight,
We ourselves sum up or rate,
Sometimes pegging it to a kilogram,
Under lesser stress to a gram;
Either a chosen or entrusted role:
Office with files taller than a pole …
Going ahead to father another baby
Which one must not skip in budgets not the lady
Plus Grand Pa long roaming The Earth,
Not wanting to end a Methuselah Birth!
More burden fixing back enemies’ sandals
Than fending off neighborhood vandals,
A gown releasing to a hated sister
Than a dozen to an outsider, a mister;
A lingered chat having with the proud
Than one’s way elbowing though a crowd!
Those who do not die are known to live beyond the veil
disheveled in the light like a Polaris star
that lusters in the sky with gaseous shine;
Although some stars are known to die very fast and very young,
there are others that remain as constant as the Northern star;
My dream is to arrive one day inside my Father's House
a methuselah star of old light years away from birth;
Oh how I wish to be the signage of His requiem,
the agent of His blaze, the one that makes things visible.
A gleaming star bequeathing light to all who perish in the night
For those of them who live beyond the veil and never die
like the Archangels "12", I do in askance ask,
how long must I live in this heathen town, without His Godly gown.
November 7, 2020
Sponsor: Silent One
Contest Name: There Is A Star With My Name On It
*Methuselah star : Researchers say it can be as old as 14.5 billion years,
but that would make it older than the calculated age of the universe? ...
I have lived for Thirty years
Yet I feel antiquely old
Aged and grey, my youthful fears
That my Beauty may grow cold
Am I as Awful as I appear?
I've no more Suitors in the fold…
For four-thousand years and more
He’s withstood the tests of time;
Extremes of heat and cold
Haven’t cut him down in his prime;
Even now he proudly stands
As a testament of endurance,
The elements sure can’t defeat
This tree of majestic stance.
This Californian Bristlecone-Pine
Stands high up in the mountain range,
How it manages to survive there
Leaves us gasping, it seems so strange;
How it’s lived for millennia
When other trees have long since died
Is truly amazing to consider,
Such tenacity can’t be denied.
On so dry and thirsty a terrain
This tree seems but to thrive,
A resilient nature for sure
Helps to keep it so alive
And, within its tough bark,
In the very heart of the tree
Must be a durability
Of the highest degree.
Yes, the oldest living thing
On our Planet Earth
Is a magnificent tree
Of such invaluable worth.
A grand, visible display
Of what determination can do;
A symbol of a great survivor
For us all to look up to.
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