Friday, April 5, 2019

How Many Years?


The Elaho - Jon Merk photo


How many years in love with the earth
are left to me?
I wonder, foolishly,
knowing there is only 
this one day, 
and then, 
another and another.
I unwrap them, one by one,
each quite unlike
every other.

When I was young and gay,
I often threw 
my treasurehouse 
away. 
Now I am old,
wrinkled, hobbling, slowed.
My needs are simple,
day to day.
I cackle, content
that all my seeds
are sowed. 

My bones are shining;
they were honed in fire and pain,
polished by smoothing hands,
soothed in gentle rain,
and the wild is a calling,
running through my veins.

These eyes have seen 
sunrises and sunsets 
beautiful enough 
to break your heart: 
the wonder of the earth,
the folly of man, 
co-existing 
in  a most uneasy plan.

In solitary mornings,
the song in my heart
spills forth into words,
that I send out
like little singing birds.
My poems are
pathways
that I leave behind 
so my children 
one day can find
my ever-grateful heart, 
when I have gone on
to whatever beauties await
we cosmic travellers
in the great beyond.



6 comments:

  1. I love this! What a perfect poem in every way!

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  2. I love this through and through Sherry!!

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  3. Wow! This is gorgeous and so you...

    Elizabeth
    https://soulsmusic.wordpress.com/2019/04/05/twilight/

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  4. My poems are
    pathways
    that I leave behind...

    Your poems are an admirable legacy, and a way that many children yet to come will find your heart.

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  5. Sherry a truely beautiful poem!!

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