When young I saw vast horizons
and broad brush landscapes
that covered distances out
to the edges of understanding,
oceans beyond imagining
and a sky that spilt into
the far reaches of outer space.
Unknown territories expanded
to invade the provinces of dream
and new pleasures hung
on every evening breeze.
I heard Poetry being chanted
in public places and in
in the monasteries of the mind.
Now old, not much has changed
except I have managed
to miniaturize everything to fit
inside the dimensions
of a diminished self whilst I
learn to dissolve into the infinities
of a boundless universe.
My functional parents loved us and each other.
I had all the perks of a stay at home mother.
At the age of five there were just two things to dread ~
the cowboy and gator that lived under my bed.
Army brat blues, poetry, song, freedom, love, dance,
guys and wearing denim in every circumstance
were the essence of me at fifteen on display.
Dad paid me ten dollars to wear a dress one day.
At thirty, I longed for down time with no stress tone.
I felt my life was a ‘get it done’ pressure zone.
Mom, executive assistant, homeowner, wife …
Day drowning grew my wishes to end the clock's strife.
Watch what you wish for is advice I did not take.
At fifty I lost the clock with a gained head break
that led to many trials for loved ones and me.
Bonded by faith, we learned all we could do and be.
My age will no longer be of concern to me
when I open the door and in walks seventy.
If I give it attention it might diminish
all that I believe I can both start and finish.
At five, whole world a wondrous gleam,
A bottomless, bright, benign dream,
Each step a secret, shine so bright,
Moments like fleeting sunbeams’ light.
Fifteen years, a smooth shifting tide,
Where fervent feelings faintly hide,
A quest for self, a whispered plea
Of who I am eternally.
Thirty now, the path quite defined,
With purpose clear and heart entwined,
A steady stride, a settled grace,
Carving own dreams in time and space.
At fifty, wisdom starts to bloom,
Dispelling shadows, chasing gloom,
Reflecting past sweet or sour years,
In the span of time, without fears.
At seventy, some desired rest,
Where peace and quietness are blessed,
A life well lived, a journey's end
On loved ones, memories, depend.
At Five,the world around seems confusing
The moves are mesmerizing, so amusing.
One knows no lies and smiles
Plays and explores,counting upto miles.
At Fifteen,one is full of energy and zest
One is impulsive,there's no desire for rest.
One dwells in dreams and fantasies
One enjoys the company of friends, like a swarm of bees.
At Thirty,one feels to have a permanent bond
With a person one wants to be and is fond...
One develops a true sense of responsibility
One strives to achieve and gain stability.
At Fifty,one loses all charm and desire
The level of spirituality, goes higher and higher.
One enjoys the company of members in family
Wants to spend the rest of his life,happily...
At Seventy,one likes the company of peers
With them,he shares the memories,smiles with eyes,full of tears...
One often feels connected with the Lord
Feels,the ultimate path,leads to the Almighty...God.
By our village home perched on a green plateau low
a sparkling brook meandered like a garland to flow.
On its waters paper boats I at five sailed with glee
to distant dreamland configured in my infant fantasy.
At fifteen and in teens to study seriously I was told,
for that shaped what the future for me would hold.
Between study and play I carefully divided time spell.
My strategy worked for in the exams I did fairly well.
At thirty to curve the tough career course I was busy,
in the competitive world that for me was not easy.
The onus of raising the family I also needed to face.
I felt happy that this I could do well by God’s grace.
At fifty when I was scaling career’s challenging height
the coming retirement days loomed large in my sight.
With the children settled and gone on their own ways
I planned well for me and my wife to meet those days.
At seventy I felt I was walking on the last mile track,
but with the life spent I was contended looking back.
I thanked God for gifting me new days’ sunrise to see,
pondered when the fated end would come to take me.
Can you believe I finally made it this far?
Wanna hear my five-year-old birthday dream?
I want a grenade, a pop gun, an exploding cigar,
milk duds and a cone of chocolate ice cream.
To get to fifteen took me forever.
Now, I fall in love five times a day at a glance.
I need a birthday miracle that’s clever -
a way to get in Janet’s pants.
With work and kids, I’m up to my ears.
How did I get into trouble so deep?
All I want, as I turn thirty years,
is one night of continuous sleep.
At fifty, it has been such a long road,
and I’ve now lost a bit of my fire.
My ambitions have been somewhat slowed.
But for college tuition, I’d wish to retire.
Seventy? How the heck did it come so fast?
The things that I hope for as the sun wanes,
is that this year will not be my last,
and a moment without aches and pains.
Five Perspectives: ages 5, 15, 30, 50, 70
Born in the Bronx in thirty-nine,
I went to school when I was five;
did arts and crafts, which was just fine.
Loved pretending my doll's alive.
Fast forward then to age fifteen;
my group of friends was number one.
High school and writing were so keen,
and weekend dances brought such fun.
At thirty years, my life was grand-
with husband plus two girls, one boy.
No preschool then, but hand in hand,
a full-time mom became my joy.
Age fifty led to busy days,
working, and yet pursuing art.
With many shows, this painting phase,
and writing poems filled my heart.
Age seventy arrived carefree.
We sold our business, then retired.
Blessed in late eighties now we see
five Great-Grandkids our Grandkids sired.
to both the parents am tethered
with love nurtured, tended, guided
this moment is all that matters
enthused by dreams where heart glided
snake of ego then spreads its hood
puberty is a profound shift
for no reason arises guilt
fear mirrors desire, soul’s adrift
head rules heart, presence is street smart
subterfuge the name of the game
at dawn each morn battle ready
flame of lust is too hard to tame
it is now time to contemplate
where are we headed, who are we
shifting to heart we end debate
that truth beyond form we may see
skin wrinkles yet heart sings love’s song
we dance with no need to rehearse
in heart resounds God’s cosmic gong
we feel one with the universe
When I was only five.
My dolls were the big thing,
we would sit and sing.
Then my tricycle I learned to drive.
At fifteen I was dating.
Boys were sure fickle,
some of their words were like a pickle.
We loved to go roller skating.
Now thirty is life half over?
Today is a new day,
no more hair of gray.
Maybe I need a new makeover.
At fifty should I retire?
Many days are way too long,
is life a game of ping-pong?
Some days I feel like I want to expire.
I never thought I would reach seventy.
Here I am,
drinking hot tea and eating strawberry jam.
Seventy is fun and not my enemy.
Two-chaired, langourous.
One, lamentable.
Seasons as heart-states apart.
Eve-sat. Outside; in
Be this yours and mine.
Rustic. Peaceable.
Summer love's full mooned, felt as.
That, frog-sung, sharing!
Absolute and relative, for many, brings clarity. And it may seem so. A nice division, and perspectives seem powerful. But non-separation bursts the clarity bubble. With the burst, perspectives disappear and "reality" is already not known. A bursting story!
Words pile up. Words are searchers. Looking for their own demise.
Alarming Perspectives!
Across a dark void
Point to point world-strangeness's.
Life-lit, more feeble.
One heart's from another
Colder perhaps still
For emotional distance
As unbridgeable.
PRECISE PERSPECTIVES
off
reflected
hues
reclining
stretching
topography
in
painstakingly
perfect
proportions
frictionless
compositions
directly
confront
distant
discomfort
in
muted
sophisticated
eccentricity
with
unsettling
rigour
in
captured
layered
perceptions
As a child of God, I enjoy awesome life with grateful glow
Benefitting from His provisions today till tomorrow
Cared for midst His peace, overcoming trials’ woe
Delighting in His grace while sharing His love of kindness-glow.
Ever regretful am I for lonely life caused by bringing Him displeasure
For my faithlessness, doubting promises He does assure
Grumbling over misfortune when His Word I do not treasure
Hoisted upon haughtiness and covetousness of selfishness-measure.
I envision a future, blest by the Lord, wondrously triumphant
Joyous while serving Him, reaching out to others, cheerfully jubilant
Keeping on by His compassion and mercy, verily vibrant
Living for His glory toward eternity, worshipfully radiant.
picture perfect
you are
and your photography
you captured me
literally
picturesque
artistry
all I have of you
is this photograph
memories
engraved in my mind
I've written you deep into the complexities of my mind
permanently, writing
poetry
I've captured your love (with my love for words and phrases)
and your grace
(I mean I catch your grace through my eyes)
this picture, this story
the glimpses
is so much more
it's deeper than
- long-suffering
- long-lasting
I long to see the world through your beautiful brown eyes
you captured me
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