[Damian and Great-Gramma]
I am the plodding matriarch,
bowed down under the weight
of my decades,
the weight
of those who press me
to carry the burdens
they don't want to carry.
I am the vast and unrestricted
being of light,
born in a thousand galaxies,
made up of particles of stardust,
strong with the wisdom of the ages,
and able to bear all burdens.
I am tired
with the accumulation
of decades of unremitting effort
gone largely unnoticed.
My body falters
on unsteady legs
that collapse
under me
when I walk too far.
I need a cane and,
on some days,
a scooter.
I refuse both.
Determinedly,
I keep on walking.
I am alive with
the energy of the sun,
fanned by the wings
of a thousand fairies.
In the light of the morning,
I rise and traverse the heavens,
like an orb,
like a daytime moon,
like a trajectory
of shimmering radiance,
a prism refracting
incandescence
through the everness of time.
I climb into bed each night
grateful for rest.
I climb out each morning
alive with
the possibilities
of the day.
I keep breathing.
Each breath,
each new morning,
is a gift
for which
I stay
immensely grateful.
The burdens
are not the journey,
just the accessories
to the journey.
The journey is
the Keeping On.
The journey is the
Staying Grateful.
The journey is
Being Alive.
The body
houses the spirit.
The spirit
fuels the body.
The body walks;
the spirit flies Above.
It flies Beyond.
Spirit knows
where we are going.
Nothing earthbound
can stop its flight
except
our refusal
to fly.
