To my Old Age
I
Old Age, take me not as thy fugitive,
For long I’ve been thy earnest votary,
But now that approaches life’s fateful eve,
Ye oft make me rethink my loyalty.
Youth when slips by leaves a lasting footprint,
So, do give thy torch of time some reprieve,
And give me on how to cope with, a hint,
Or else, O hasten and one day let me leave.
Nigh fit, let me at thy altar retire,
I know, Time pursues all. Need it harm too?
Let it paint grey my brow, but least my heart,
Pray, help me retain grace, O Sacred Fire,
I know, old age comes with its unique hue,
Do bless me with this hue before ye part.
II
So, O Old Age, bless me before we part,
Sentiments on thee seem vain words if brave,
A terrified man’s desperate last dart,
Thoughts to feather the tomb, gallows’ glee, grave.
To thwart that, pray protect the child in me,
If I’ve missed play and learning of childhood,
In youth, a rudderless boat at mid-sea,
So that I’ve no regrets when old to brood.
It’s easier to build up a brave child
Than to tinker an adult cast in stone,
No, never will I regret thee, Old Age.
Let O Time, my old age be childlike wild,
Let it be playful with the child its own,
And Old Age, let it turn my life’s last page.
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Crown of sonnets |15.04.2024| Old age
Copyright ©
Aniruddha Pathak
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